Sign of the Swan
by Robinhood4ever
Summary: A princess. A curse. Death. One would think that life as a princess would be filled with comfort, yet so unfulfilling. Living in her world ever growing darker; yet forced to listen to the song singing within her filled with hope, but unable to share it with those around her. She fights against the expectations surrounding her to create her own path to care for her people.
1. Prologue

The Princess panted. Sweat beaded upon her brow and her clothes were drenched as she heaved and pushed. She had labored here in this bed for many long hours, praying that her child would come sooner. With each one that she had borne she had been gladdened by the joy that they had brought to her house. Two healthy sons she had given her beloved husband, two heirs, and now she prayed for a daughter as her pains continued and the midwives hurried around her fussing and encouraging her with their gentle words-Until, when she felt as if she could give no more, for this birth had been longer than all the others, a great scream was heard.

A babe.

She relaxed into the pillows piled up behind her shoulders, and looked up at the midwife. The head midwife handed the baby off to one of the other women, and continued to clean up and help her lady. The young woman smiled at her Princess, holding the infant aloft so that the Lady could see her beautiful child.

"A boy, m'lady, and such a head of hair on him too,' she laughed, using a corner of the cloth to wipe the blood from his red face.

The Princess smiled, and held out her arms for her little son. Gently settling the baby into his mother's arms, the women began to bustle about, following the orders of the head midwife as she dished them out in a hurry. All the while the mother and son were oblivious to everything around them. She crooned over him, playing with his hair with one finger as it curled around her finger in a perfect ringlet. She was pale, paler than what was expected after even so long of a delivery, and the midwives worried. She had lost to much blood, and the boy had been larger than her other children, causing a tear, which though sewn up, still gave them pause.

Looking up from her young son, she smiled, and called to one of the young women, "Lenora, come take him to his father, and brothers."

The young woman left her place at the tube washing the linens that had been stained and knelt by her Lady's side. She cradled the child in her arms, and went to swaddle him in a soft nighty before wrapping him up in a pale blue blanket that was softer than silk; It was embroidered with swans and blossoms in silvery white. The baby had fussed at being handed from person to person, angry at the cool air that had greeted him when he had exited his warm haven, but once settled in her arms he closed his eyes, exhausted. It was hard work being born.

Lenora carried him out of the Princess's rooms, through the short hallways between the bedroom and receiving rooms. One of the Guards stationed at the door of the Lady's sitting room bowed before the newest addition to the household, then pushed open the door. Those within the room leapt to their feet, two men, one old and white of hair, and the other young and strong; the two boys who sat upon the ground jumped to their feet and rushed towards the maid, but the older man grabbed them. The young man took a step towards her, lifting his hands, only having eyes for the small bundle in her arms.

"What-

"A boy m'lord,' she stated, smiling.

He looked up, a large smile on his face, which darkened as his eyes flickered to the door, 'And my wife?"

"The lady pulled through, and though weak, is healthy despite her long labors,' she told him.

He sighed, the tension in his shoulders fading away as he approached her. Slipping his arm under the bundle, he lifted the boy from her arms. He took one look at the lads curly head and leaned back his own, his loud booming laughter echoing off the rafters far above. "He's going to be another Ladies Man, just like Arion!"

He combed his fingers through the short curls bouncing on his sons head, smiling. He counted each of the little fingers on each hand, all the tiny toes on each foot, kissed the two ears and then the soft nose before nuzzling it with his own larger one. Behind him he could hear the shuffling of feet and the loud whisper of voices.

"Grandpa, can we see him now?"

"What he look like?' whispered a rather quiet Erchirion, peering up at the bundle of blankets in his father's arms. His grey eyes wide with wonder as he observed his father looking over his new baby brother.

Imrahil turned to his sons, smiling widely. 'You may see for yourselves."

The two boys rushed forward, and if their father hadn't been such a steady man, they would have bowled him over. He chuckled as he crouched down to their level, their eyes wide in anticipation as they pushed at one another to see better. Elphir finally hefted his younger brother up onto his small hip, the latter clinging like a leech to his neck as he peered down at the babe in their father's arms.

"He's so small,' wondered Erchirion, reaching out to touch the babe, but snatching his hand back at the last second.

Their grandfather, Adrahil chuckled, walking over to his son and looking down at his new grandson. 'You were that size once, my boy, and your brother before you. A children start out as such."

"Will he be able to play with me?' asked the boy curiously, reaching out and touching the babe's head under the watchful eyes of his elders. He marveled at how soft the baby's hair was, stroking it over and over again.

"Not for a little while yet, he is still small,' Imrahil told his son, standing and walking over to his chair. Sitting down, he let the boys climb up onto his lap to sit on either side of him. They spent many more minutes seated thus as Imrahil answered every question the Erchirion threw his way in his childish curiosity. Elphir watched his new little brother with a little less curiosity than Erchirion, he had gone through this once before, and remembered how long it had been before his little brother had been able to play with him. He sighed, resting his little chin on his clenched fist as he listened to Erchirion's questions grow fewer and fewer as he grew tired.

Finally, after looking out the window, Imrahil shook himself in shock, and stood. The boys had been awake nearly the whole time that Lorelei had been in the birthing chamber. He turned to his father, who smiled, lifting a brow.

"I think it is high time that you two turn in,' he said.

"But Ada! We-

"No 'buts', Elphir, it's time for you to get some sleep.' The boy's shoulders slumped, and he looked over to his grandfather pleadingly, eyes large and bottom lip puckered.

"No, don't look at me, boy, your father has the final say,' the old man tried to hide his chuckles as the boy turned dismally back towards his father.

"What about Nana?' he asked, 'Is she alright?"

Imrahil smiled down at his son, 'This was why you were so quiet?"

The boy nodded.

"Your mother is fine, just very tired,' he explained.

The boys brow wrinkled.

"Having a baby is hard work,' Imrahil tried to explain.

"How hard? Doesn't she have any time for me?" he asked.

Imrahil stopped, trying to think of how it would best be explained to such a young boy. "Well, imagine if your grandfather put you through all of your paces over and over again, and didn't give you a break, you remember how tired you were the other day?"

The boy nodded, still hopeful, but with understanding dawning in his eyes.

"That's how your Nana feels right now, she is very sleepy,' he told his son.

"Will I be able to see her tomorrow?' he asked.

Imrahil smiled, noticing his father pick up the already slumbering Erchirion and carrying him towards the door. 'Perhaps, but we must let Nana rest for as long as possible so that she can regain her strength."

"Then I'll wait until she calls for me,' he said resolutely.

"Good lad. Now run along."

Elphir turned and hurried a few steps to the door, then turned again, and rushing back to his father, gave his new baby brother a quick peck on the cheek before bolting from the room after his grandfather. The door swung slowly shut behind him and the sound of his pounding footsteps faded into the night. Imrahil shook his head at the boys energy, and turned back to the opposing door. Pushing it open, he tip-toed through the hall, then into the chambers that he shared with his wife.

He was startled at the difference that he found. His wife had always been a strong woman, as had been her mother and grandmother before her, but she looked so small, so fragile, so-so breakable lying there upon their bed. She was pale, skin whiter that the bleached sheets she relaxed beneath, her long fingers looked bony and thin, her face drawn, as if she was still in pain. Hearing him enter, her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled. Lifting one of those thin hands, she beckoned him closer. He hurried the few steps and settled down on the edge of the bed gently, trying to avoid moving her.

"How are you?' he whispered.

"Tired,' she murmured back, but he could see something in her eyes, a sadness.

"And? I know there's something else,' he prodded gently.

She sighed, looking away from him and the baby.

"Tell me,' he pleaded.

A tear slipped from her eye, and she looked up at him, 'I know it's selfish, but I wish he had been a girl."

Imrahil quirked an eyebrow.

"We have two sons already,' she began to explain, 'I know I've always said that as long as the babe was healthy that it wouldn't matter if it was boy or girl, but I thought-I prayed that this time it would be a girl."

He nodded slowly.

"I wanted a little girl to dress up, to have tea parties with, to sew clothes for her dolls, to teach her how to run the castle,' her voice was choked.

"Then we will try again,' he said, smiling.

She shook her head, 'That's just it. There will be no more babies. No daughter. Marta said that my body isn't capable of carrying another babe to full term, let alone conceiving another child. This birth was too hard on my body."

She began to weep, the tears streaming down her face, and she looked up at him. His own face a become damp, a few tears finding their way past the barricades he had put up. Reaching out, he brushed away her tears with his thumb, then leaned forward and kissed her. From between them came a high pitched grumble, then a hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of his beard, tugging sharply. Pulling away from his wife, he laughed softly as his son tugged at his hair. Lorelei giggled through her tears, though the sadness did not completely leave the depths of her eyes, and took her son from his fathers arms. They spent the rest of the evening observing and loving their new son together, pushing the awful news to the backs of their minds.

 **Lady** Lorelei sat amongst her friends, watching her young sons play with her friends children. Her husband had thought it might be fun to gather all their friends together and go boating to one of the many small islands in the bay. Together she and the women had planned out their meal and gathered the food from the kitchens before shepherding the children out to the many boats that would be used to ferry them out to the island.

And it had not been long before she had come to sit upon the endless sands of the beach. She listened to the chatter between the ladies as they all sat grouped beneath a tent that the men had set up for them to shade themselves from the sun. The children ran here and there, some building castles, some playing in the waves, some searching for mussels or clams, others watching in fascination as a few groups of young men put out in small coracles to fish for their dinner. Her eyes travelled to the girls, who wandered along the edges of the waves or in tide pools, searching for shells to string into necklaces or to decorate the little ones castles. Erchirion followed after his younger brother as the lad continually got himself doused in the white waves that came rolling in ever few seconds. She smiled as he laughed, and sent a large splash of water up into his brothers face. Erchirion gaped, mouth hanging down by his ankles as he looked at his brother then back at his now sopping wet shirt then to his brother. Her gaze drifted back to the girls, their long dresses fluttering in the wind and their dark hair braided back in elegant twists or hidden beneath large straw hats to shade their faces from the heat of the sun. Their laughter filtered over the breeze like butterflies, soft and beautiful as they chattered together.

Her smile slipped away, and she sighed. She would never have a little girl who would giggle or laugh with her friends like that. She turned her eyes back to her sons and tried to force the depressing thoughts away as she watched them play in the water like two fish.

 **"She's** barely past her fourteenth birthday and already attracting would be suitors, can you believe it?" stated Lady Rachael smiling over at her daughter who blushed prettily. 'And why wouldn't she, she's tall for her age, and womanly, she even learned how to run parts of the keep when I was away tending to my ailing aunt. She's quite the catch, if I don't say so my self."

"Has your father chosen anyone for you yet?' one of the older girls asked the young lady in question.

"Nay, but I've just come of age so there's plenty of time to do so,' the girl stated, blushing further.

"Do you have anyone in mind?' prodded one of the other girls, leaning in like it was some great secret.

"Nooo..."

"Yes you do,' came the girls younger sister, who had been playing with the other girls her age. 'You fancy Varin."

The girl blushed, 'Hush Amalia."

"You do!" teased her sister.

"Varin of Nan Requain, why isn't he Dulian's nephew?' asked one of the other ladies.

"I believe your right,' Princess Lorelei stated, punching the needle through the cloth with a little more force than was necessary, her eyes flickering to the young girl. 'He's next in line for his father's holdings, quite a strapping young lad."

"And handsome,' giggled the girls.

The matrons raised their eyebrows at the girls antics, turning back to their stitches. The chatter went on and on topics ranging from weather to engagements to crops to babies born to trade in port. The ladies chattered on and unnoticed to them the Princess disappeared out one of the side entrances to the gardens. Finding the secret gate, she disappeared down the winding staircase to the sands below the castle. She sighed upon hearing the footsteps of her personal maid trailing down many stairs behind her. She stopped at the bottom, pushing open the Swan gate, she stepped onto the sand and waited.

It did not take long for her maid to appear, panting a little as she came to a stop beside her mistress. Nora had been the Princess' maid since she had been born, she had only just turned ten when she was given the responsibility to watch over and tend to her young mistress, and had done so faithfully for her whole life. She saw the Princess as the daughter she had never had, and looked after and loved her just as any mother might. The Princess' smile faltered in front of her maid, and the tears in her eyes became apparent.

"Oh dear, don't cry,' the older woman whispered, taking the womans hands in her own. 'Soon you'll be helping Elphir choose his own bride, then you'll have grandchildren of your own to run after."

The Princess shook her head, 'It's not that Nora, I'll be able to do that with all of my sons, but it will never be the same as with a daughter. With a daughter you have all the little details and tidbits to talk and laugh over in preparation for the marriage. It's a time of bonding that I will never have.'

"If only I could have more children,' she whispered to herself.

"Somethings are not meant to be, child, but that does not mean we cannot enjoy what we are given to the fullest,' the old woman reminded her.

She nodded, sniffling. 'I think I would like to walk along the shoreline alone. You may stay here and watch or return to the castle above, but I will not be climbing those stairs any time soon."

The old woman nodded, 'Go have yourself a good long walk, deary. I'll see you when you return."

The Princess nodded, and turned away, slowly walking across the desert of sand that made up the long beach of Dol Amroth. Nora thought that she had never seen a sadder sight than her mistress, shoulders slumped, head down, and arms hanging limp at her sides up to that day.

 **Lorelei** wandered down the beach, farther than she had ever wandered before, but she did not look back. Her mind was to distracted by her grief to notice the change in her surroundings. Turning, she found herself in a sheltered cove from which she can see the castle in the distance, far down the coast. She sat herself down on one of the many large boulders scattered across the sands, and wept. Her tears were like crystalized raindrops, purer than freshly fallen snow.

"What ails thee, child?" came a scratchy voice from her elbow.

Jumping, she gave a soft shriek at the sudden noise. On a boulder not far away sat an old hag. The woman had so many wrinkles that it was hard to figure out which part of her face she was looking at. The hag cackled, looking her over.

"How could you know that somethings ails me?' she accused.

"Why, it's written all over your face,' cackled the old woman.

"What? What is written all over my face?' wondered the Princess, half afraid half in wonder.

"You wish for a child, a girl child as a matter-o-fact, one as white as snow, hair as dark as a ravens wing, eyes as blue as the sea. A daughter just as beautiful as the elves, the fairest of them all."

"Yes! Yes!' Lorelei scream. 'A girl. A girl to spoil. A girl to dress and teach. A girl to giggle over suitors with. A girl to watch as she grows into a beautiful woman. And I would do anything to have the chance to bare another child, a daughter."

"Hehehe, and there are ways,' chortled the woman under her breath.

Lorelei's ears perked up, 'Ways? What ways?"

The woman stopped her chortling, and stared in surprise up at her. "What was that?"

"You said that there are ways. Ways for me to have a child. What is this way?" she asked, walking up to the woman, her tall form towering over the old hag.

"It is a dangerous way-

"How-

"One that comes with a cost-

"I don't care what it costs, tell me! Tell me how this might come to pass!' she thundered.

"Magic."

She paused. "Magic?"

"Aye, Magic. A little oh this a little of that, a strand of your hair, some water from the ocean, a lock of horse hair,' the old hag snatch a strand of long hair clinging to the Princess' dress, pulled a strand of her dark hair from her head. A bottle appeared in her hand and she dunked it in the ocean, pulling it up pushed the two strands of hair into it. 'A feather from a gull, a piece of green grass,' this she plucked from somewhere in her many layers of clothes.

"Where did you get that? There isn't grass like that-

"A drop of blood,' the woman laughed.

Lorelei paused. 'What else, I'm sensing an 'And'."

"And you must whisper the name of the child you wish for,' the old lady stated.

Lorelei leaned forward towards the lip of the glass and opened her mouth, but the hag snatched it away. "Are your sure you want to do this?'

"Why not?"

"All magic comes with a price, are you willing to pay it, no matter how great it is?" Asked the old hag.

"Anything, now give me that vial." The Princess snatched the glass from the womans hand. She whispered over the opening of the vial. 'Lothiriel."

"Now, before you love your husband again, drink this and all your dreams will come true,' cackled the hag as she walked into the water.

"Where are you going?' asked the Princess, puzzled.

The hag didn't reply, but her form changed into that of a sea-witch, terrible and beautiful. She slowly slipped further away into the water and all Lorelei heard was: "Remember, all magic comes with a price."

Many, many months later the Princess was yet again laying upon her bed, heavy with child. Sweat beaded upon her forehead; teeth clenched in pain; body shaking as she strove to bring forth her child. She had never screamed during any of her sons births, but this one she did. Her voice loud and piercing, filled with agony. She panted and gasped, sipping on water while she waited for the next contraction to form over her belly. The midwives bustled about her, looking busy while they exchanged worried glances between one another. Their Lady was not as strong as she had once been, and they knew that this child alone was a miracle all it's own, but nothing was ever certain. Marta crouched at the bottom of the bed, urging her lady on as she groaned leaning forward and clenching the hand of her nurse, Nora, as she bore down. A screech flew from her lips, and she fell back upon the pillows, utterly exhausted. Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled deeply.

"It's a girl, m'lady, a beautiful girl!' cried Marta with false joy, pushing aside her worries for the moment. 'Look she's even got a thick thatch of hair already, curly to like Amrothos' when he was born."

Their lady opened her eyes a bit, and smiled happily, reaching shaking arms up for the infant. 'She's beautiful, more beautiful than the fairest maiden in all of Gondor."

The other women nodded, they had never seen such a beautiful babe, for though fresh from the womb, skin still that angry red, her face was perfectly formed, her little nose delicate, and her lips in a distinct pout as she squinted up at the world around her. She did not cry as she was passed from woman to woman, landing at last in her mothers thin arms. Lorelei smiled down tiredly at her new daughter, touching the girls cheek with her fingertip and kissing the small nose. The baby sneezed loudly, her bright ocean blue eyes opening wide in wonder as she snuggled closer into her mothers chest. She yawned, her little mouth opening impossibly wide, her little eyes squinting as she stretched, then settled into her mother's embrace.

Marta sent for the family immediately, knowing that there was precious time left for them to say goodbye. The boys burst into the room all at once, their eager voices echoing off the walls of the room as they dodged between the women to get to their mother's bedside. Elphir snagged Erchirion by the ear and Amrothos by the arm before the two energetic youths could jump on the bed and climb all over their mother and the new baby.

"Is it another boy?' asked Erchirion, twisting out of his elder brother's grasp with a quick movement and sticking his tongue out over his shoulder.

"Will I be able to teach him to read like 'Chirion did to me?' asked Amrothos, who had just mastered a small children's book that his brother had been helping him with.

"You will be able to teach her how to read,' chuckled their mother as the boys leaned closer. She pulled the fluffy white and blue blanket away from the tiny face and they gasped.

"That's the prettiest baby I've ever seen,' said Amrothos, pulling the blanket down further.

Elphir groaned, rolling his eyes heavenward, 'She's the only baby you've see besides Urther, and he was fat and wrinkly, obviously she's the prettiest."

Amrothos glared up at his older brother, 'She's ours, that's all that matters, and I like her,' he turned to his mother, eyes hopeful. 'Can I hold her?"

"Of course, just let your brother's help you,' she said, handing the infant over to her eldest son, who cradled her in his arms like she was the most precious thing in the world. He walked over to the window, and had Amrothos and Erchirion sit down on the windowseat there. He slowly lowered her into Amrothos' arms, guiding him with his hands like a pro, giving his little brother advice about the proper way to hold the baby. Amrothos took right to her, chattering away about the day and what he had been doing and who else would be coming to see her.

Lorelei smiled sadly as she watched her sons argue over who would get to hold the baby next and for how long, they already loved her. She felt the bed shift, and turned to look up at her visitor. Imrahil looked down at her, and took her hand, watching the boys as they cooed over their new sister. He shifted closer, taking her into his arms gently as she leaned against his chest, one hand braced against him. She listened to his beating heart as they sat together, her eyes fluttering every few seconds as she attempted to remain awake.

"Nana, what are we going to call her?' asked Erchirion, turning from the baby for just a moment. Everyone paused in their fawning and looked over at her, curious.

"Lothiriel. Lothiriel is her name,' she said softly.

The boys nodded, but Amrothos wrinkled his brow. 'That's really long."

"It's only a letter longer than yours, squid,' teased Elphir.

Amrothos stuck his tongue out.

"What about Lotty?' Erchirion asked, looking between his brothers and parents for approval. 'That's shorter, easier to say to."

Imrahil nodded, 'Then Lotty it shall be."

"I like it,' she whispered as the boys turned away.

He hmm'd in agreement. 'How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Very tired.' she said, quiet enough that the boys couldn't hear.

Imrahil looked over his wife. He had been pulled away by Marta right before he had been able to make a step towards his new daughter, and the news had not been good. He prayed that what the midwife had said was untrue, that his beautiful wife was just tired from the birth, but he knew what death looked like, how it embodied itself. His wife, his Lorelei was dying. She was paler than the sheets she lay beneath, her dark hair limp and the normal shine that he would see in her eyes was gone. Her lips were blue-ish in color, and her breaths came in small pants.

"You'll get better,' he said, as if stating it as fact would change what was coming.

She smiled against his chest, her cheek laid against his breast as she listened to the steady beat of his heart. 'No, I won't."

"There must be a way,' he whispered.

She shook her head, a tear slipping down her face. 'There isn't, you know that."

"I wish you hadn't taken the chance, I wish you could have been happy with the children we had, I wish that my love and our boys could have been enough,' he spoke, voice catching before he broke down sobbing.

"Your love was always enough, Imrahil. It was my own choice to wallow in my self-pity and bitterness, letting it build when I should have let it go,' she snuggled closer to him, eyes traveling to the bundle that now rested in Adrahil's arms. 'But I wouldn't trade her for the world."

"She's beautiful, more precious than the stars, as delicate as a rose,' he whispered watching as the baby grabbed a fistful of her grandfather's beard.

Elphir, being the perceptive boy that he was, and eldest of of the trio, sensed that something was amiss. Leaving the circle of his brothers, he came and crawled up next to his mother, who welcomed him with open arms, kissing his forehead. For many long moments she stroked through his waves, not quite the crazy curls of his younger siblings, more tame, calming him. He rested his head on her shoulder, drinking up the time she ran her fingers though his hair, letting his eyes close for a few minutes. Then, he sat up and looked her in the eye, his own shining with tears.

"You're leaving us, aren't you?" he stated, his young, still childish face so very serious.

Her lip trembled, but she did not cry. "Yes, I'm afraid so, my little sailor."

"But we still need you, Lotty needs you. What's she going to do when she has questions about boys, or-or-or embroidery? I don't know how to do that stuff?" he stuck his tongue in the side of his cheek.

"You won't have to teach her those things, but you'll all be responsible for looking after her, teaching her to look out for herself, how to act properly, speak with other nobles politely, stuff like that." She told him, laying a weak hand on his shoulder. 'You'll be her protectors."

He nodded, eyes sharpening, 'I'll make sure that anyone who makes her cry gets a good pounding."

She chuckled, 'Perhaps you should try to use your words first?"

He shrugged, 'I'll still probably punch them, she's my little sister after all."

She shook her head, leaning back into the pillows, spent. Imrahil, reading her exhaustion, motioned for the boys to come over and sit around their mother. Each one gave her a hug and a kiss before trailing out of the room in a little line, almost like ducklings, and his father deposited little Lothiriel into his arms. He held her close with Lorelei looking over the little fingers and toes, both in wonder. They spent a few more minutes basking in the joy of being new parents, watching her slumber in the safety of their arms. Finally, when she could barely keep her eyes open, Imrahil handed the baby off to Nora, who had been the Lady's maid and the children's nurse for longer than he could remember. The woman slipped through the door and into the nursery.

Imrahil held Lorelei in his arms, looking out over the sea, smelling the salt of the waves through the cracked window.

"She's my greatest work,' his wife whispered. 'Perfect in every way."

"You said that about each of our children,' he chuckled, tears brimming in his eyes. 'I think you're biased."

"Perhaps, they all do look like you,' she chuckled.

"I should hope not! Lothiriel would not look good in a beard,' he teased.

"No, but she does have your headstrong spirit, stubborn too,' she sighed, relaxing against him.

"But she has your nose, and those cute ears of yours,' he said kissing said appendages.

"But she has your eyes, and dark hair,' she muttered.

"Who do you think she will resemble more once she's grown, you, or me?' he asked, resting his head atop hers as he watched the waves roll in from the bay and the sunlight slowly filter through the window as it slipped over the horizon.

...

"Lorelei?"

"Lorelei?!" he pulled back, his wife's head lolling against his arm. He shook her gently, 'Darling?"

...

"No. NO. NO!' he wept, cradling her to his chest as he traced her face with his thick fingers. 'You can't go, my seastar, by darling. I need you. There are so many things that I don't know, so many things that I won't know how to teach our daughter."

He cried, the tears breaking through the barriers that had been erected to hold them at bay. He shook the whole bed with his sobs, the noise loud enough that it could be heard in the town below as his wife's spirit slipped out and fluttered along the breeze across the ocean.

 **In** the nursery, lying in her cradle, the baby whimpered, a small cry piercing the air before a shadow moved over the cradle. The mobile swung in the breeze, turning, the sea creatures moving up and down as if they were truly swimming. Towering above the child was the sea witch, her long white-blonde hair curly down her back to touch the floor. She smiled evilly, leaning over the cradle, her webbed fingers clutching the sides of the carved wooden swan. Reaching down, she caressed the child's pale face, her purple eyes drinking in the curly hair and big blue eyes.

"So curious, aren't you." she smirked. Then she began to humm.

The baby gurgled, then laughed, batting at the sea witches hand. The witch cackled, and snatched her hand down, grabbing something that no human eye could see. The baby choked, then began to cry, tears slipping out of her big blue eyes as she looked up at the creature above her.

 _"As silent as a rose,_

 _More subtle than the breeze,_

 _Beyond the beauty of the swan,_

 _Unspoken till the wanderer returns,_

 _And the crownless king."_

The Sea Witch spoke over the babe. Then she was gone in a flash of blue sparkles, the only thing that remained was a sea shell necklace.


	2. Chapter 1

**Much of what Lothiriel will have to say will be in sign language I am not going to specify that she is signing in every sentence. Thanks!**

Everyone thought that the new princess of Dol Amroth was the most darling of them all. Grant it she was the only girl out of the four, so that may have had something to do with their admiration, but nonetheless, she steadily became their favorite. She was small and sweet, with her big blue eyes and hair as dark as the night sky. She was a quiet little thing, barely laughed, almost never cried, why nary a peep seemed to leaver her plump little lips in her chubby little face!

Imrahil watched over his tiny daughter with the ferocity of a lion, always on the prowl. Though he was in charge of much of the going-on's of the castle with letters and missives to write, men to train, ships to sail, he still made time to spend with his children, but his little daughter most of all. He would sneak into the nursery in the afternoons after the children, or more appropriately Amrothos and Lothiriel, had woken from their naps and played with them. He would sit upon the floor tickling her belly as she kicked her little legs in the air and shook her fists, grabbing at anything she could get her hands on while Amrothos played with his ships and toy sailers. When she had grown enough and started crawling and climbing she had thrown them all for a twist; they would find her in the oddest of places, on top of her father's desk in his study, on the ledge of a window, and even once seated upon the long trestle tables in the kitchen being fed bits and pieces of chopped fruit by a gaggle of serving maids who thought she was the sweetest thing they had ever seen.

Lothiriel never walked. No, from the moment she took her first step she was always running, running, running. Everywhere she went she would run. Imrahil had had to hire a younger woman to watch after her with Nora, her nurse, because she was as slippery as an eel when it came to corralling her in her rooms. She would always find some way to disappear from her keepers, disappearing from her room and finding her way down to the gardens where she would play, or finding her way to the training grounds, down to the wharf, which had nearly given her nurse and Imrahil a heart attack as she tottered about on her short legs liable to topple over the side and into the water at any second.

Once, when just before her second birthday she had escaped again from her nurse and maid. The whole castle had been in uproar as they searched everywhere, going to all her favorite hiding places. They checked the little garden off the nursery, the storage rooms that were connected to the kitchens, the library with its many bookshelves, crannies and nooks, her brother's rooms, the training field, and the animal pens by the east wall that the goats and sheep where kept in before they were slaughtered. When she had not turned up in any of those places Imrahil had set up search parties, thinking that she might have wandered out into the streets of Dol Amroth, and gotten lost in the crowds or down one of the dark alleys.

This had been in the early morning, and by the late afternoon they still had not found her. Imrahil had looked over the castle once again, rechecking places that he knew she liked to hide in to no avail. Praying that he was wrong, and that she hadn't been kidnapped, or killed, he thought with a shiver, he set up a party to ride out and search the countryside. They donned their leather gear for mild protection and were in the midst of strapping their swords to their belts while they hurried to the stables. Hurrying down the line, they each rushed towards their steeds, many of which were the fastest horses of Dol Amroth. It was when Imrahil was jogging past his destrier, Rillian, when he caught a flash of white cloth out of the corner of his eye. He paused, twisted on his heel, and froze.

There, standing in the stall with the enormous horse was a tiny figure. Her short frock, which had at one point been whiter than snow, was now covered in dust and mud among other less pleasant things. She toddled between the horse's long legs, weaving in and out as she pulled on Rillian's tail with one of her chubby hands. The horse stood stock still, turning his head from side to side to watch her as she played under his feet. Crawling out from under him, she lifted her arms up to the horse, her mouth open, and little puffs of air coming out as her face grew redder and redder. Imrahil's eyebrow wrinkled as he watched. The giant horse lowered its large head down, and her little hands found purchase on his long face, as she wrapped her arms around his snout tightly. The horse slowly lifted its head up so that her feet where just above the ground, dangling in the air. She laughed, her eyes lighting up as she kicked her legs this way and that before her grip loosened and she plopped to the ground, letting out a startled puff of air. So startled was she that she sat there on her bottom with a look of pure shock on her face, then the tears started to fall and her bottom lip puckered. Rollin cocked his large head to one side and his ears went forward, and his brought his head down to her level. Rubbing the tears from her fat cheeks, with one hand she reached the other out to the horse's face, petting him, a small smile forming.

Not wishing to startle the horse, Imrahil slowly edged his way into the stall. It was a rather large stall, as the horse was taller than he was, and he slowly made his way around the edges towards his daughter. She continued to prance around under the horses large hooves, having regained her exuberance after her slight mishap, hanging on to the feather like hair that grew on his legs as her short legs worked double time as she tumbled and played.

"Lothiriel?' he called softly, glancing between his daughter and the great horse. She paused beneath the horse, looking out between it's legs as she leaned on one. She innocently smiled up at him, her little eyes twinkling with mischief and she looked from him to the horse with a proud air. 'Come to Ada, Lotty."

She shook her head and ducked back behind the horse's legs with an airy giggle. He groaned, running his hand through his hair. "Child, you are going to give me gray hairs before my time."

"Come,' he ordered, crooking a finger at her as she played hide and seek in between Rillian's thick legs.

She smiled, pushing Rillian's long tail out of the way.

"I've got a sweet treat waiting for you in the kitchens, Lotty,' he murmured softly, and her eyes lit up as she took a step towards him. "Those pastries you like, with the cream in the center."

She took another step towards him, then stopped looking back at the horse, head cocked to one side. The stallion blew a great puff of air into her face before turning his head and scooping up a great mouthful of straw from the floor and munching on it. She smiled and ran the rest of the way into his waiting arms. Sighing with relief, he hugged her close to his body. As he slipped out of the stall, Lotty waved at the horse from his shoulder before turning and kissing him on the cheek.

"Don't ever do that again, peneth,' he whispered as they walked past the stalls towards his men who were beginning to mount up in the courtyard. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes tiredly. Walking out into the yard, the whole place fell silent, staring at the small figure wrapped around his neck.

Elphir, who was already in the saddle, swung down from his steed and hurried over to his side. "Where in Gondor was she? We've looked everywhere!"

Imrahil chuckled, though there was a hint of relief in his voice when he spoke. "She was playing in the stable."

The men paused.

"In the stable? She's only been there twice, how could she figure out how to get there?" asked Erchirion, who had joined them in the yard.

"Well, apparently we don't give her enough credit,' Bran, Imrahil's Captain of the Guard, said.

The Prince nodded, and looked down at his little daughter, so small, so precious.

"Where was she playing? In the hay bales?" asked Elphir, knowing what a temptation those were having suffered from it himself.

"No, in Rillian's stall."

Silence.

"What?!"

"She could have been killed, or worse!"

"Who was watching her?"

"Will have to set up some type of guard outside the nursery."

Imrahil chuckled, shaking his head, 'I don't think a guard with be necessary, Erchirion."

"Why?"

"Because I'll have Caradoc put locks on the door where she can't reach them."

Adrahil raised an eyebrow, 'And you think that will stop her? Have you forgotten the stubbornness of your children, Son?"

Imrahil groaned, amending his statement, 'It will be an attempt to stop her from escaping again."

Elphir and Erchirion laughed, moving out of their father's reach so that he might not be able to slap them upside the head.

Later that day, as he watched his daughter slumber beneath the sheets of her small bed, her chest rising and falling softly, he turned to her nurse, Nora. The woman had aged much since his wife's death. Her hair, old as she had been even then, had still been a dark black in color, now it was speckled with a fair amount of gray. There were more wrinkles around her eyes, and she had a more grandmotherly feel about her. Though in looks she had aged, her energy and spirit had not, she was still just as active as she had always been.

Now she was sitting in her rocking chair, mending yet another pair of trousers that his sons had torn in some escapade. She looked up at him and smiled tiredly. The loss of her charge that morning had definitely worn her out.

"Ask your questions, Sire,' she said, poking the needle through the cloth a she stitched up the rip.

"How did you know I wanted to ask a question?"

"You have the same look your sons do when they come to me with questions,' she chuckled.

"Well, I am there father,' he smirked, running his hand through his hair.

"Don't I know it,' she snorted.

He brushed off her words, knowing that she was teasing him.

"Go on."

He opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. "Has-has Lotty ever spoken?"

She gave him a puzzled look.

"Has she ever talked, or spoke in that child-ish gibberish that most infants do?"

The older woman paused, leaning her chin on her hands as she looked over the child, eyes etching each and ever lock of hair, every dimple, every eyelash into her mind once again as she thought back through the years. "Not that I can think of, but she's always been the quiet one."

He nodded. 'Has she ever laughed? Or cried?"

The old woman stiffened. 'She cried when she was a babe, but other than that, no."

"I distinctly remember all of the boys chattering on about this and that, even if it was in gibberish, at this age. Shouldn't she be doing the same?"

"Yes."

"Then why isn't she?' he asked, becoming concerned, which slowly turned into frustration when she did not answer right away.

"Perhaps she doesn't want to talk yet. There are some children who are like that, quiet as mice, but then, all of a sudden, their talking up a storm. Be thankful for the peace and quiet while you have it, Imrahil,' she chuckled. 'You'll be wishing you hadn't wanted her to talk once it happens."

 **But** it never did. Years past, and his little daughter grew taller, looking more and more like a finer version of her mother each year. She was just as mischievous as her brothers, if not more at times. At six years of age she was quite the charmer, but it was a quiet type of charm. She never spoke. Imrahil spent the few years after her third birthday taking her to ever physician and healer that they knew about, hoping to get an answer about what ailed her. They traveled as far as the edge of Near Harad to the South and as north as the small elvish settlement east of the sea near Lond Daer. They asked if she had ever had a very severe illness or some traumatic experience in her young life, but when he answered no, they commonly went about looking her over, checking her for strangely placed moles or freckles, thinking she might have been cursed, but when her skin turned up pure as snow without blemish, and all other outlets were exhausted, they couldn't help him.

"She's perfectly healthy, m'lord,' one of the healers had said, 'There is no reason she shouldn't be able to talk. Perhaps it is just that she doesn't wish to talk."

That was far from the truth. His little daughter spent much of her time trying to communicate with them. She would form words with her lips and make herself red in the face trying to force a noise from her mouth for hours in frustration. There were many temper tantrums that happened in his house. She could feel the vibrations of other people when they talked, and try as she might, when moving her own lips, she could not make those same sounds. She had become very upset and confused that she could not communicate with those around her, and at times had taken to throwing things or stomping or laying on the floor when her nurse or maid told her it was time to do something.

Even after visiting the elves, who were known for their natural healing abilities, they were unable to say exactly what was wrong with her. Though there were a few who thought that there might been a birth defect that had affected her, causing her muteness. Imrahil had pushed back against that, telling them that when she was born she was able to cry and gurgle, but they just shrugged their shoulders and he moved on, looking for the next option.

Imrahil hadn't known what to do with his little daughter when she had started to throw fits, even when she screamed, silently grant it, until she was red in the face, or smashed plates. He had no idea where his darling little girl, his little lily, had gone. He knew she was a smart child, as she had started to learn how to play the lute when she five, and had taken to it like a fish to water, excelled incredibly at it. She could ride her pony just like any other young girl, and her sewing skills, though still in need of a lot of improvement, were very good. Nora, her nurse had worked long and hard to teach her little charge how to do normal, womanly things. But still Lotty threw tantrums.

All seemed to be at a loss until one day a letter reached him from his nephews, Faramir and Boromir. His nephews dearly loved their young cousin, and amazingly, it was Faramir who could understand her the most, even though he had only visited a few times in her life. They had clicked, as if they had both found that niche that they couldn't seem to find with anyone else. Though he was over ten years older than she, there had always been a young, childish part of him that never grew up. The first time they had met, she had only been a babe, and remembered nothing, but when he came to visit the year she turned four, she had instantly left her father's side and held her arms up to this stranger. Faramir had laughed and swept her up into his arms, where after she was situated he asked her where such a beautiful girl had come from.

In the letter, Faramir stated that he had stumbled upon a few families in Minas Tirith and a few outlying towns that had mute or deaf children or adults in them. He had studied these families when he passed their homes or visited their villages and noticed that they communicated with their hands. On one such occasion he had stopped and asked them about it. When he heard that they used motions to say things he had immediately thought of his cousin and asked if someone could be found to teach her these signs. One of the young women, who was related to the deaf person, said that she would be willing to come and teach the young child, and so Faramir had sent out his letter asking for permission to send the woman to Dol Amroth.

There were not words that Imrahil could use to express how overjoyed he was. His hopes soared up to the heavens. Finally he had a solution to communication problem with his daughter. He immediately penned a letter to his nephew, requesting that this woman be sent to Dol Amroth to teach his daughter how to speak using these hand signals. After sending the missive out with his fastest rider, he ordered that the room next to his daughters be made ready for the arrival of their guest. The room had once belonged to the maid who had watched over his young daughter through her toddlerhood, but who had left once the girls temper tantrums had gotten out of hand. He hadn't blamed her, Lotty had been quite the handful, a little terror, truth be told.

Lotty, who was a very inquisitive girl, had figured out that something drastic was about to change in her home, and had started to follow everyone around constantly. She had listened to them as they had aired out the bedding to the room next to hers and tried to question them about what was happening. The maidservants only shook their heads at her, shushing, and told her that it was a secret. She had huffed, crossed her little arms, and gone off to play in the garden with a pout. When she woke up one morning a days later, there was a great ruckus going on inside the castle. Halls were being cleaned, windows opened wider to let the air in, the kitchen was scurrying around preparing a grand meal, and her father was nowhere to be found. Sensing that something immensely important was about to happen, she seated herself on the stairs outside the main entrance to the castle.

Seated there, she waited. It was after the midday meal that she heard the rattling of a carriage, one that reminded her of those that her cousins had used a few times, and stood. From the doors behind her burst her three brothers, and they came to stand beside her. Her father and aged grandfather joined them not long after, and they all waited with bated breath for the carriage to roll into the courtyard.

The arrival of the carriage had caused quite the stir among the servants and groomsmen, and a large group of them were scattered across the yard as they all waited. Through the gate came the carriage, small and of dark wood, there was no insignia on the side showing from which noble it had come from, but all eyes were fixed on it as it rolled to a stop. A groomsman stepped up to the carriage door, and swung it open, offering his hand to whomever was inside. Lotty peered through the group of taller servants as she stood with them upon the stairs watching eagerly for the person to step down. She was rather surprised when a young woman exited the carriage on the arm of the groom. She wore plain, yet well-made clothes, with simple colors of browns and greys, and her hair was pulled back with a ribbon. She carried herself with an elegance and dignity that belied her plain appearance and simple hairstyle though. She turned after decending from the carriage, thanking the groomsman, and turned towards the stairs where Imrahil came hurrying down the steps.

Lotty watched with growing curiosity as the woman walked up the stairs on her father's arm and came to kneel before her.

"Hello,' the woman said, smiling down at the young girl. 'My name is Helena. You must be Lotty. Your cousin has told me a lot about you."

Lotty cocked her head to one side, looking up at the woman. She wrinkled her eyebrow and pointed to the woman hands then to the servants. Then she looked up at her father questioningly, her brows meeting in a wrinkle on her small face. Imrahil didn't know what exactly she was trying to tell him, but he logically assumed that it had to do something with the arrival of Helena.

"She's hear to teach you how to talk,' he told his little daughter.

Lotty's eyes lit up and she pointed to her mouth, then made movements like something was coming out of it. She repeated the movement over again and looked eagerly at the woman, hope brimming in her eyes as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

Helena smiled sadly. "I won't be able to make your mouth talk, Lotty, but I will be able to teach you how to speak with your hands."

She circled a pointed finger around her mouth. "Mouth."

Lotty repeated the movement, and a great grin broke over her face; she pointed to her mouth again before turning to her brothers and repeating the sign. They smiled at her and copied the motion.

"Yes, that's right,' laughed Helena. 'Good job, Lotty. Mouth."

Then she swiveled to look at Imrahil. 'Teaching only Lotty how to sign will do nothing for her if no one knows what she is signing. You will all have to work on this together.' she looked over the staff. 'I would suggest that your staff learn a little of it too, so that if she asks them a question they will know at least the gist of what she is asking."

"We'll all work hard to learn how to communicate with our little mistress,' stated Bran, stepping out from among the knights and looking up at the princess adoringly. 'We love her just as much as our lord does and would do anything possible to help her."

Helena smiled, clapping her hands together. 'Wonderful!"

"Let's get you all settled in and then we can start with some small lessons,' Imrahil said, taking the woman's arm and leading her into the castle.

Lotty followed along behind, repeating the sign she had learned over and over, running up ever few seconds and pointing to this object or that piece of her body and looking up imploringly at the woman. Helena laughed more that day than she could remember, she had never had such a hungry pupil before and it gladdened her. She knew that teaching this child would be no small task, there would always be ups and downs, but she knew that there was a large percentage of what she would teach this girl that she would succeed in.

Hope blossomed that spring in Dol Amroth.

 **Lotty** spent most of her days with her new friend Helena. From the moment she awoke in the morning to late into the evening they went through her day. Helena had spent most of the first week just teaching her charge the signs for objects, like lamp or window, and they reviewed them each day, adding new words when Lotty was ready. The girl was ever hungry for more knowledge, following her teacher around even when she wasn't learning anything new. She was fascinated by the new woman, who looked nothing like her family or her friends in the castle.

Her teacher was tall, almost taller than her grandfather, who was six-foot two, and willowy. She had pale skin, not quite as pale as her own, but somewhere between peachy cream and white, and her hair! Her hair was like the deepest amber honey she had ever seen. It reminded her of her father's golden tassels on his fancy livery when he travelled to Minas Tirith. Her eyes were of a brown-muddied color, with flecks of green that would suddenly sparkle to life when she laughed or smiled widely. Her manner was far more bold and open than the other women that Lotty had encountered, and she liked her for it. In her young mind, the girl told herself that she wanted to be just like this strange golden lady who had come to open her prison doors and set her free.

Over that year they spent many hours together. Helena and her charge settled into a routine together sewing, exercising outdoors, walking along the beach collecting shells, and learning new signs each day. Slowly the little girl built up her vocabulary along with her family, beginning to communicate with full sentences and having small conversations with those she cared about. When she had finally learned enough signs and the alphabet, Helena turned her eyes towards other things that would interest her young mind.

Taking the girl into the immense library in the castle one day, she walked up the spiral staircase of the airy room filled to the brim with books. With her hand clasped in her teachers, the girl followed after her mentor like a dog on a leash. She looked up at the towering bookcases, her jaw on the floor by her slippers as she gazed up at the great windows that opened up and let light into the room. She had only been in here a few times before, but she had been looking for her father and could have cared less what she was looking at. The windows were of stained glass depicting a garden of flowers curling around the edges of a single clear pane cut in the shape of the sun. Then her eyes turned back to her teacher, who had stopped and plucked a small book from the shelf. Back down the stairs they went, and to one of the tables in the center of the great room under the great skylight.

Helena sat her charge down and opened the book to the first page. Lotty cocked her head to one side, confused as her mentor pointed to the marks on the page.

"What is that?' she signed, quirking her eyebrow and wearing a confused look on her face.

"This is a book, Lotty, something that people read,' the woman said, turning the page.

The girl raised her eyebrow again. 'Ada reads books, but I understood why?"

"Well, because it's fun, or maybe he wanted to learn something,' the teacher said.

Lotty shrugged her shoulders but continued to stare down at the book.

"You know your letters, right?' Helena asked.

The girl nodded.

"And you know what they look like when we wrote them down on the paper?"

"Yes."

"Now we're going to put them together to create words like 'dog' or 'cat' or 'ship', and with those words we're going to make a story."

Helena wrote out each word from the first sentence of the book onto separate cards. She laid them out across the table for the girl and had Lotty spell each of the words using her hands. Together they worked their way through all the words in the sentence, spelling them out and signing the motion for each word. Helena explained that for words like 'a' or 'of' were not signed when communicating with others, but when you read they were an important part of the process. They spent the first day working through the words on the first page, writing them down so that Lotty could practice her penmanship, and so that she could memorize them. Sitting beneath the skylight, from which the light had faded long ago, Lotty smiled as she signed her first read sentence.

"Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a king,' here she imitated a great long sash with her fingers in a 'k' shape, 'and queen,' another long sash with the letter 'q' shape, 'who said everyday: ah, if only we had a child, but they never had one."

Helena clapped her hands, 'Wonderful, Lotty, absolutely wonderful! You'll be reading on your own in no time!"

Lotty nodded vigorously, her mind going straight to an image of her father sitting before the roaring fire in his study bent over a large volume in his hand. 'Father? Can I show my father?"

"Of course! Go on!" encouraged her teacher, handing her the book as she flew out of the library.

Down the twisting halls and up a flight of stairs the little girl ran, hair coming free of its braid as she swept around corners, nearly running into a few of the maids. She burst through the door of her father's study, clothes fanned out around her, eyes alight and joyful. He had been talking with one of the patrols who had come in from the outer isles and he and the men paused as the girl bound into the room, pushing the book into her father's hand.

"What is this, Lotty? What have you been up to all day?' he asked, holding the book in one hand and hugging her with the other arm, smiling guiltily at the soldier, the man smiled, watching the girl with a curious eye.

She hugged him tightly before leaping away and pointing at the book. "I can read! I can read!"

"What?' he asked, puzzled as he waved away the soldier who bowed before slipping out the door, leaving it open a few inches.

Snatching the book from her father's hands, she laid it down on his desk, flipping open to the first page and pointing at the first sentence. She was so excited she bounced on the balls of her feet as she pointed to each word and signed it for him.

"Once upon a time, long, long, ago, there was a king and a queen who said everyday: ah, if only we had a child, but they never had one."

She looked up at him expectantly.

His jaw was slack as he watched her. He blinked once. Then twice.

She repeated the signs, pointing to the words when she was done and looking back at him, slowly growing concerned when he didn't say anything. After a few seconds she began to wonder if she had done something wrong, if Helena had taught her something that she shouldn't know; then she would remind herself that there were many other people who could read, so it must not be wrong, but why then, did her father remain silent.

"You-you can read?' he asked in awe.

She nodded. "Yes!"

He laughed, his voice booming as he swept her up into his arms and twirled her around the room. She raised her hands and pretended to fly as he spun her around, her mouth wide as she laughed silently. Her father drew her close, hugging her, tears forming in his eyes. Outside the door, servants had gathered, and through the crack they witnessed this great phenomenon. There were shouts and whoops of joy and thanksgiving when she finished her sentence.

"My daughter can read!" he cried, feeling inclined to shout it from ever rooftop, every window, every crow's nest in the navy. His daughter could _read_.

She smiled, bouncing up and down.

"Read me another line, my little ducking,' he said drawing her back to the book. A great hush fell on the hall outside the door as she stood over the book, lips pursed as she looked down at the words written on the page. Sticking her tongue out the corner of her mouth, she began to sign again.

"But it happened that once when the queen was bathing, a frog crept out of the water onto the land and spoke to her. 'Your wish shall be fulfilled,' he said, 'before the year has gone by, you shall have a daughter.'"

Her father nearly crowed in delight.

"It's a miracle!"

"What!? What's a miracle, Ada?' came the confused voice of Elphir, hurtling into the room through another door, his two younger brothers on his tail.

"Here, Lotty, do it again, do another line." Her father laughed, kissing her forehead as her brother's looked on in confusion.

She smirked up at her brother's, a mischievous glint in her eye now, 'What the frog had said came true, and the queen had a little girl who was so pretty that the king could not contain himself for joy and ordered a great feast."

Her brother's all froze and looked at her as if she had grown a second head. She paused, wondering if she had done something wrong again. Normally if she accomplished something new, like a difficult to remember sign, they would be all over her congratulating her. She toed the ground her slipper and looked up at her brothers' from under her long, black eyelashes.

"That-that was-

"Simply marvelous, stunning, stupendous!' cried Amrothos, finishing for his eldest brother with his long, extravagant words with a twirl of his hand. At only eleven his was already quite the charmer.

"I'm going to have to go with Amrothos' description on this one, that was outstanding, Lotty!' said Erchirion, hugging her tightly.

"There aren't words,' said Elphir, kissing her forehead lovingly as he pinched her arm teasing.

She glared up at him, pulling her arm away from him, sticking her tongue out quickly before turning back to her two other brothers.

"You can show Faramir when he comes to visit in May for your birthday!' Erchirion said, elbowing her. She elbowed him right back, just as hard, if not harder.

"I have to get better first, I only know the words in this story,' she said flipping the page over.

"Well then, you had better get started, haven't you?' Amrothos teased, snatching the book from the table and waving it in front of her face like the tease he was. Leaping up she tried to grab the book from his hand, but he was much taller than she, and her arms much shorter. She growled, glaring at him as she hopped and jumped up in attempt to snag it from his hand. Huffing she turned away from him, arms cross. He laughed, lowering the book a little further. Twisting sharply, she kicked out her little leg, and swept his long spindly legs out from under him. He let go of the book in attempts to catch himself, and she grabbed at it, hugging git to her chest.

"Seriously Lotty?' he groaned, rubbing his shins where she had kicked him.

She shrugged and slipped onto her father's lap. He glared at her.

"If this is what happens when she gets her hands on a book, I hope to never see her get her hands on a man. It would be brutal." Amrothos groaned, rubbing his throbbing shins as he scowled at his sister. She stuck her tongue out at him again, and nestled into her father's arms, opening her book to the next story.

"That won't be happening for a long time,' Erchirion hissed, slapping his brother over the head.


	3. Chapter 2

Lothiriel's birthday came faster than was expected and soon enough her seventh birthday was upon her. All around her people were preparing for a great feast in her honor, letting out the many rooms of the palace as they waited for the guests to arrive. There were many this year, far more than there had ever been at her other birthdays, and she was astonished at the amount of chairs that were set up in the upper dinning hall. She had gone through and counted them on her fingers, coming up with nearly seventy guests who would be attending. Looking at the tableware she was able to assume that some of these guests would be very important. But she didn't bother to ask who they were, being more interested in raiding the kitchen with her brother Amrothos as the staff came together and created masterpieces of almond paste and marzipan. They had even sent for a large swan to be served at the feast, plucked and cooked, then the feathers replaced on it's large body.

While she was forced to stand in her room with her nurse, Nora, and her teacher, Helena, as they fussed over this and that, she tried not to fidget. One of the seamstresses from the town had volunteered to make her a dress for her birthday, and so here she stood on a stool as the woman tugged and pinned and moved the fabric around. She wanted to groan, her brother's had been talking about taking a swim in the bay after lunch today, and she desperately wanted to disappear and join them down at the cliffs.

The dress itself wasn't the problem, it was quite incredible. The cloth had come from the south, in Umbar, and was a very light powdery blue, soft as silk, and lighter than any of the woolen gowns she had worn up to that point. Most of her clothes were made of wool, linen, or cotton, as she was rather rough on clothes, and this was the first to be made with such an expensive fabric. Around the neckline and scattered over the dress were white pearls, sewn on to look like water droplets. The sleeves on the thing were very long, and draped down nearly to the floor. She had complained about that at first, asking why she needed to wear something that would end up being ever so cumbersome when she wanted to move or grab something. The seamstress had told her that it was all the rage in Minas Tirith among the nobility, and that all the little girls would be wearing the same style when they came to her birthday. That had quickly silenced her as she thought of her friends, Aislinn and Dania, who had been her playmates since she was only two.

She waited silently for the woman to finish putting the pins into the dress. In her mind she worked out the fastest way to the cliffs, going over the many paths and exits she could take to get there. She could be quite the escape artist when she wanted to be. There were about five different ways that she could escape her captors after the dress was removed and she was in her normal clothing. There were two exits from the castle, one from the overlook, which would involve a lot of rock climbing if she didn't want to take the stairs down to the gate; the other was through the training grounds in the outer courtyard. If both of those two exits were blocked, then she could slip out through the main gate with the crowds, out the Harpers Gate. If neither of those worked, she could slip out the old fashion way and drop down the garderobe and into the sea.

She shivered at the thought. That was her least favorite way of escaping her Nurse, and the most smelly.

"There we are, Princess,' spoke the seamstress around the many pins in her mouth. She spit them all out into her hand and laid them in her wooden cup as she surveyed her work. 'You'll be all the rage at your birthday party this weekend. Pretty as a picture."

Lotty smiled, trying not to bend as the pins seemed liable to poke her at any second. "Thank you."

"Oh you're welcome dear, it's an honor,' replied the woman, curtsying rather clumsily. 'Now, lets get you out of the contraption before the pins wiggle out of place."

The woman tutted at her as she eased herself out of the layers of fabric and pins, wincing silently as a few poked her as the gown was pulled over her head of dark hair. Once the gown was off, she leapt down off the stool and donned her chemise over her underclothes, then her long under tunic, then her surcoat. Both Helena and Nora were chattering away with the seamstress about the dress as she slipped out the door and down the hallway.

Ducking into an alcove to avoid being seen by her father's guards, she waited for them to pass. Once they were a good long way down the hall, she dashed over the floor and through one of the doors. She cackled to herself as she wove in and out of rooms as she made her way to her first destination; the Overlook. She groaned when there was a pair of servants kissing one another under the shadow of one of the many hanging plants and vines. She gagged, and hurried towards the gate that was in her mothers garden. Slipping around the corner of one of the many hedges, she crouched low, listening and waiting. Just as she was about to run across the path one of the gardeners and his apprentice started down the path. She growled, her nose wrinkling as she looked at her path towards freedom. She prayed that the gardener would pass by her hiding spot and be on his merry way, but of course he stopped at the spot almost directly across from her, kneeling down in the dirt to weed the area around her mother's favorite lilies. He was talking to the lad who was his apprentice, and from the sounds of it wouldn't be moving any time soon. Twirling around she made for the one place she knew would be available. The Garderobe.

Fleeing through the garden she came to the wall and tower where the guards normally watched the comings and goings of ships that sailed into the Bay of Belfalas. She had heard the bell that they sounded when a pirate ship was spotted off the peninsula, and in less then three minutes one of the galleys of her father's navy would be out on the water giving chase. The guards upon the tower were normally pretty lax in their observations otherwise, and wouldn't notice her using their garderobe to exits the castle into the sea. Climbing up the stairs to the door, she eased it open, lifting it as much as she could because the hinges squeaked awfully. As she shut it behind her she froze, mouth hanging open as she came face to face with one of the guards. But then she relaxed, he was asleep. From the looks of things he had been on the night watch, and was throughly exhausted from the long night watching the sea. Creeping past him on tip-toe she held her breath as she hurried down the stairs to the garderobe. Listening at the door, she gave a sigh of relief as she heard no one within.

As she pushed open the door, she shut it slowly, letting the latch slowly click back into the lock. Hurrying over to the opposing wall, she grabbed one of the stones set near the bottom of the wall and wiggled it out. She reached back into the crevice and pulled out a boys tunic and trousers. The tunic was much too big for her, and the trousers had to be tied with a rope, but they worked. Stripping down to her white chemise she bundled her clothes up into a ball and tied them together around her underarms with a piece of string. She shoved her shoes into the cubby hole and slide the stones back into place. Then she climbed up on top of the seat and looked out the slit of a window to the sea below. She had done this seven times over the past year, but each times was just as thrilling. Lifting the seat, she looked down the dark hole, seeing the bluish light speck at the bottom many feet below. The garderobe shoot was much bigger than she was, but she knew that in a few years she would no long be able to use this way to escape her prison. Taking a great breath of air, she slide over the lip of the stone and plunged down, down, down. Eyes closed, she tried to hold her breath the whole way down so she didn't have to smell the revolting smell of feces. It only took her a few seconds to reach the bottom of the shoot before she was free-falling through the air to the ocean waves below. Straightening her body into an arrow, she dove down into the water, popping back up close to the cliff walls.

Hair clinging to her face like barnacles, and clothes dragging her down, she swam to the rock face of the cliff wall. When she was a few feet away, she paused, treading water as the waved rolled towards the wall. When a strong one rolled it, she didn't resist the force propelling her up and forward, but let it ease her up against the rocks in the cove. She reached her hands up and grabbed ahold of the slippery stones and clung to it as the water rushed back into the bay. While she caught her breath, she looked up at the towering cliffs above her, picking out her route. When she was breathing normally again, she hurried up the rocky face as fast as her arms and legs could move, enjoying the adrenaline at the thought of dropping back into the waters below. She angled herself up the rocks, her small hands finding holds that no grown man would be able to support himself on. As she drew closer to the top, and nearer the place where her brothers had said that they would be jumping from, she heard boyish voices shouting and laughing.

She smirked, hearing the splashes as they did flips into the deep waters below. Cresting the top of the wall of rock, she peeked over the edge as she looked for her brother's. Pulling her skinny self over the edge, she over her way among the tall rocks that kept them from her view. As she did so, stopped at the small stream of clear fresh water that trickled down the rocks to the ocean waters below and scooped up some of the water, drinking it greedily as she dumped her clothes in the pile along with her brother's things. Sneaking a glance around the boulder, she giggled. All the boys were naked except for their trousers, and their tan backs glistened in the sun. Their hair stood up every which way and Amrothos' curled down around his shoulders quite girl-like. Quite a few of the boys had jumped off the cliff into the waves below, and her brother's were having a wrestling match trying to toss one of them into the waves below. Eyes twinkling, she rushed out from her hiding place and barreled right into her brothers, who were all standing on the edge of the cliff. With a startled shout the three toppled into the waters below, their hands grasping at empty air as they twisted and turned before plunging down into the frothing waves. She stood at the edge of the cliff alone, laughing silently, hands on her knees and tears streaming from her eyes as they popped up above the waves and glared up at the cliff face. She waved.

"Lothiriel Melody what in the world do you think you're doing?' yelled Elphir angrily, glaring up at her. She shrugged, and her grin widened.

"You're supposed to be taking your music lessons with Gerion,' Amrothos said.

She stuck her tongue out at them. 'I thought I might go swimming."

Then she disappeared.

The boys began to swim frantically towards the cliff face.

"Lotty, you stay up there where you're dry, you hear?!"

"Don't make me run and tell Ada!"

"Man, Elphir, we're going to be in so much trouble!" Came Amrothos' whinny voice.

"Shut it, Ami,' growled Elphir, shoving his brother under the water as he looked up at the cliff. 'Lotty you better be listening to me!"

Silence.

The brother's exchanged a look, worried.

SPLASH!

The boys shook themselves as their little sister's head popped up among them, her grin wider than ever. They all gaped at her as the other boys splashed and wrestled with one another in the water. She ducked beneath the next wave, and popped up at Erchirion's shoulder, jumping up on him and toppling over his head as she was thrown by him. Landing with a splash, she kicked water back in his face, leaving his sputtering as she dove beneath the waves and towards the cliff face. In a few moments she had scaled the rocks with the other boys, who all thought it was a great joke that she had escaped her Nurse. Again. She was leaping from the cliff's with the rest of them before the boys could blink. Her brother's rolled their eyes, but ignored the fact that she wasn't where she was supposed to be. They spent the rest of the afternoon playing the the waves on the beach nearest them, playing King of the Rock on one of the large stones that rose out of the water, playing chicken, which she and Erchirion managed to win every time with no help from Amrothos, skipping stones on the water as the sun sunk lower in the sky.

It was then that they all hurried up the beach and up cliffs to grab their dry clothes. Lotty changed behind a rock into her dress after pulling off her wet tunic, trousers, and chemise. Running a hand through her sopping braid, she smirked up at her brother's as they donned their tunics, tying their belts around their waists and hooking their dirks and daggers to them before grabbing their shoes. Lotty skipped along behind them as the other boys joined them in their jaunt back to the city over the rocks.

The boys entered through the Training gate, laughing and joking loudly as they parted ways. Lotty and her brother's hurried around the large training field and slipped through the inner gate and into the courtyard. They followed the shadows through the gardens and entered the castle through the kitchens. The women were all aflutter at their arrival, giving them knowing looks as they hurried through the servant's quarters and into the bathing chambers there. Slipping her clothes off, Lotty hurried behind a screen and quickly bathed in the luke warm water, rinsing the salt out of her hair as she unbraided it. One of the maids had left a comb out, which she borrowed as she dragged it through her long wavy locks of unruly hair. Climbing out of the bath, she sat upon the wooden bench, drying herself off with a towel before dressing herself. Then rapping three times on the wooden screen, she waited for a reply.

"You're good to come out, Lotty, we're all decent."

Creeping out from behind the sheet, she covered her eyes. She had learned even as a toddler that the likely hood of her brothers really being decent wasn't true by a long shot. She had stumbled into their rooms at many different hours of the day and gotten an eyeful of their naked chests and bare legs except for their braise's. She peeked through her fingers as her brother's started to laugh, and she drew her hands away from her face, cheeks flushed.

"Thought we were going to moon you, Lotty?' Amrothos teased, wiggling an eyebrow. She hid behind Erchirion, hiding her blushing face as Amrothos strutted out around the room.

"Come on, we've got to hurry,' Elphir said, pulling his over tunic down over his head and tying the strings at the neck. 'Amrothos, run to the tower and get Lotty's shoes, we'll meet you in Mum's garden."

The younger boy nodded, and took off out the door, booking his way through the castle to the watch tower. Lotty's brother's hurried the other direction, taking all the servants corridors through the castle, and a few secret passages of their own that they had discovered over the years. Elphir had been the first to find a secret door in his room, leading through the wall to the nursery. He had used it each night to visit his younger brothers when they had been toddlers, playing with them at any and every hour of the night. Their nurses had always wonder why they had been cranky when they woke up the next morning. They waited in the dusty passageway while Elphir peered through a peep hole in the wall into the garden. The doorway was a carving in the wall of the garden of the White tree, and would swing out on a hinge when a lever was pressed.

"Anything, Elphir?' asked Erchirion, pushing at his older brother as he tried to look out the peep hole also.

"Doesn't look like anyone is in the garden,' their brother whispered, squinting. 'But that doesn't mean it's safe, anyone could walk out at any time."

They waited a few more minutes, watching the shadows change in the garden as the sun dipped lower on the horizon. Lotty shifted from one foot to the other, her bare feet getting cold on the white stone beneath them. She gripped her stockings in her hand as she waited impatiently for her brother's to finally decide it was safe to leave the darkness of the passage. Finally, when she was quite sure that she wouldn't be able to feel her feet for much longer, they pushed down on the lever and hurried out into the fading sun. Elphir turned quickly, shutting the door behind them with his shoulder and moving some of the creeping vines back over the cracks to hide any lingering effects that they had left in their exit.

They slipped around the garden, peeking around corners and over hedges as they avoided anyone who might give them away. After what seemed like an eternity of holding her breath, they seated themselves before the fountain, Erchirion pulling a book out of his pocket and laying down on the lawn, Elphir produced a bag of bread crumbs for her to throw to the swans that nested in her mother's garden, and began to flip his small dagger between his fingers. She wandered around the fountain, throwing out the crumbs for the swans that came to nibble them up, pushing their beaks into her hand as they searched for more of the tasty morsels. After only a few minutes they heard the sound of pounding feet upon the stone walkways through the garden, and all stiffened as they turned towards the noise. Careening around the corner of one of the hedges came Amrothos, her shoes in hand and a excited look on his face. He tossed the shoes across the lawn to Lotty, who only just caught them.

"Hurry up and put your shoes on, Lotty, Ada's coming and he's not exactly pleased,' he danced around, a mischievous look in his eye.

She hurriedly sat down and pulled on her stockings, tying them with the ribbons that she had in her pocket, and slipped her shoes on. When she was finished she started tossing crumbs upon the ground again, looking over her shoulder every few seconds as she waited for her father to come around one of the corners. Elphir looked particularly miserable and guilty as he flipped the knife between his fingers, and didn't dare look up when their father came around the pillars. Amrothos was working on doing a flip in the air, almost making it each time as their father came to stand in front of them, arms crossed and a dark look on his face. None of them spoke.

"So, I was informed that my sons missed both their history and their math classes today with their tudors. I was also told that they were seen cliff jumping off the souther wall. With their BABY sister!' he thundered.

The boys all flinched, not daring to look up at their father.

"It was bad enough that you skipped your lessons, especially you, Elphir, you're next in line for the title of Prince after me, but to drag your baby sister along, when anything could happen to her if she was caught by the current, or dove to deep? Or got carried out to sea? She could have drowned and none of you would have realized it!' he railed at them, making them cower. Lotty shrunk back into Erchirion's chest before closing her eyes in resignation.

"It wasn't their fault!'

"And what would you have done then? You're all good swimmers, but that doesn't mean you would be able to withstand the force of the current in the middle of the bay? It's dangerous!"

"It was my fault, father!' she signed, getting right up in her father's personal space as she signed with large, defined motions.

He paused in his ranting, 'How was it your fault? I know that your brother's can be quite encouraging when it comes to escaping from their tutors."

"I slipped past the guards and through the gate onto the cliffs. They didn't goad me into it, they didn't even invite me. I joined myself." She looked down at the ground, feeling only a little guilty for what she had done. She tried to hide the smile that was trying to form on her face, and eventually was able to control it.

Her father knelt before her, taking her hands in his own. He sighed. 'Do you know how foolish it was to disappear without telling anyone where you were going? What if something had happened to you? No one would have known that you had left the palace."

She bit her lip, looking up into his eyes. She was a little shocked to see the fear and sorrow that was there, and threw her arms around his neck as she hugged him tightly. Pulling her back, he looked her in the eye.

"Promise me that you will tell someone where you are going when you want to do something, it's for your own safety, and our peace of mind. We love you, and it would be very sad to loose you to something as silly as not telling someone where you are going."

She nodded, 'I'm sorry."

"Then try to do better, let your actions speak for you."

Lothiriel jumped out of bed the morning of her birthday, rushing to the window and pushing it open. A brisk breeze blew into the room, and the sun was just peeking over the horizon. She laughed, dancing around her room as she opened the door to the room that Nora and Helena shared next to hers. She danced her way across the cool stone floor and over to Nora's bed. Jumping up on the end, she began to bounce on the mattress with giddiness. The nurse grumbled, turning over in her bed and pulling the covers up over her head.

"Go back to sleep, child. It's not even seven in the morning yet, far to early to be up bouncing about."

The girl continued to bounce, but hopped onto her teachers bed, bouncing on it. The woman's tussled head of yellow hair lifted from the cocoon of covers that she had curled up around her, her eyes blinking back sleep as she looked down at her charge. She smiled weakly, reaching one hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes. Sitting up in bed, the woman brushed her long hair out of her face, smiling wider.

"Blessing on your Birthday, Princess."

Lotty smiled, jumping off the bed and running out into the family corridor, bursting into the room her three brother's shared across from hers. They were all burrowed deep under the covers, legs sprawled every which way in a gangly fashion. She jumped onto Amrothos' bed, bouncing from one side to another as she clapped her hands together to make some sort of noise to express her glee. The lad groaned, peeking out from under his covers and glaring up at his wide-awake sister.

"What is wrong with you, Lotty, the sun's just come up."

She smiled cheekily at him and jumped to the next bed, snagging a pillow while she was at it. She jumped up and down on the bed, narrowly missing her brothers legs and arms when she misplaced her foot. He rolled over, looked at the window, and slid deeper into his cave of blankets. She hit him with her pillow hard, wacking him hard upside the head. He growled, and ripping the pillow from underneath his head, whomped her in the shoulder. She giggled and they began an all out pillow fight. All of a sudden the room seemed to filled with white clad goblins as they swung their pillows to and fro, building forts; the battle ranged from one end of the long room to the other, into the bathing room, the boys study, and the closet, which were all connected through a series of doors. Their laughter rang through the morning air as they assailed one another with pillows until a stray one was hurtled through the air, connecting roughly with the face of an intruder. They all paused in their movements, gapping at the figure who held the pillow in his hands while looking from it to them in confusion then mischief. Their father smirked, and fired off the pillow at the slowly sitting up form of his eldest son, who had stayed out of the way of the fight up until now. With a shout, the boy-near-man leapt from his bed and tackled his brother's and sister, pummeling them with pillows.

It was an all out battle then, with Elphir leading the assailing party, and Erchirion, Lotty, and their father defending the closet, bath, and study while collecting pillows as fast as they were thrown and retaliating. The besiegers soon out of ammunition as the trio of 'Swan Knights' collected and stashed the pillows safety in the closet, but then they charged, regained their ammunition and continued the assault. It was when their racket brought their two cousins from their bedchambers to inquire about the strange noises that they were assailed, and dragged into the game. Boromir joined Elphir's party, and Faramir, Lotty's. Her two cousin's dove into the game with joyous abandonment, laughing and whooping with the best of them as they took down the forts erected by their opponents. A few accidents occurred, but nobody minded, and gave and took sounding thwacks with good humor, while pillows flew like seagulls across the room. Slowly the fight wore down, and only here and there did a pillow fly through the air as a parting shot to the opposing side as they all fell to the floor amid the mountain of pillows laughing breathlessly.

"That is more fun than I have had in a long time,' breathed Boromir, smiling mischievously over at Elphir before whipping a pillow out and slamming it into his face. The man growled, and retaliated by elbowing his elder cousin in the gut.

"You must be getting old then, Boromir,' teased Erchirion, poking his belly.

"If Boromir is old, then I must be ancient,' muttered their father, sitting up and drawing his daughter into his lap while stroking his beard.

Faramir laughed, his voice low and musical. "Never, Uncle. You will perpetually be young."

Lotty rolled her eyes, and pointed to Faramir, 'They you must still be a toddler."

"What?!" gasped her cousin in shock. 'You insult my intelligence, fair lady."

"Whatever." she raised an eyebrow at him, leaning back into her father's arms.

"So, Happy Name Day, Lotty!' Boromir said after a few minutes of chatting with her brother's.

"Yes, Happy Name Day, little Lily,' Faramir said, producing a small wrapped gift from out of nowhere.

Her eyes lit up, and she glanced up at her father, asking for permission. He nodded, smiling. She restrained herself from snatching the item from her cousin's hands and began to slowly unwrap the paper, keeping the ribbon to tie in her hair for later. Her smile only widened when she pulled the paper off and read the cover.

"A Collection of Songs and Poems in Sindarin."

Her eyes twinkled as she threw her arms around her cousin, squeezing his neck, she pulled back, sitting in his lap as she opened the book to the first page. She could already recognize many of the words, but there were many that she could not read. She wallowed her way through the first stanza of the poem before stopping in frustration and looking up at her cousin. He smiled, and went on to read the poem to her, translating it into a lower form of Sindarin, one that was used by the younger scholars, and which she knew well.

 _"Then I saw a boat silently float_  
 _On the night-tide, empty and grey._  
 _'It is later than late! Why do we wait?'_  
 _I lept in and cried: 'Bear me away!'_

 _It bore me away, wetted with spray,_  
 _wrapped in a mist, wound in a sleep,_  
 _to a forgotten strand in a strange land._  
 _In the twilight beyond the deep_  
 _I heard a sea-bell swing in the swell,_  
 _dinging, dinging, and the breakers roar_  
 _on the hidden teeth of a perilous reef;_  
 _and at last I came to a long shore._  
 _White it glimmered, and the sea simmered_  
 _with star-mirrors in a silver net;_  
 _cliffs of stone pale as ruel-bone_  
 _in the moon-foam were gleaming wet._  
 _Glittering sand slid through my hand,_  
 _Dust of pearl and jewel-grist,_  
 _Trumpets of opal, roses of coral,_  
 _Flutes of green and amethyst._  
 _But under cliff-eaves there were glooming caves,_  
 _weed-curtained, dark and grey'_  
 _a cold air stirred in my hair,_  
 _and the light waned, as I hurried away."_

She smiled as she listened to his voice as he as read the words, the poem sounding like a spoken song. She leaned against his shoulder, listening to him as she played with her dark hair. His voice was soothing and melodious, much like her nurse's when she sang a lullaby. Once he had finished the long poem, he closed the book and smiled down at her.

"I take it you are going to throughly enjoy this book,' he asked.

"Yes, very much. I want to learn how to read and write those words that you read, it was so beautiful,' she said.

He smiled, 'I'm sure that you will."

She turned to her eldest cousin, and raised an eyebrow expectantly. Boromir smiled guiltily.

"Unfortunately, I left your gift in my room, as it was something not so easily carried like that book,' Boromir teased.

She giggled, eyes twinkling brightly as he jumped from his spot and exited the room. As they waited for his return, her brother's began to put their room to rights, fixing their beds and replacing the pillows that had gotten torn with new ones while stacking those with tears or holes in a pile by the door for the maids to pick up later. Together they picked up the feathers and combined them in a pillowcase so that they wouldn't continue to float around the room on the breezes that filtered through the windows. Imrahil took a seat on one of the chairs in the study, his daughter seat on one knee as he told her the story of her birth all those years ago. Each year since she had been able to communicate, using made up motions in the beginning, she had asked for the story. And each year her father had told her about the strange case of her birth. By the time her father had finished the story, Boromir had returned to the study and was sitting and lounging among his cousins and brother.

Looking away from her father, she caught sight of her cousin and the gift he held in his hands. The gift itself was quite long compared to anything she had seen before, and was wrapped in a cloth rather than paper. She wondered if he had gotten her a riding crop like many of the other noble lady had to use with their horses. She personally thought that the contraption was ridiculous, and that a horse could be guided without the use of pain. Her father and brother's, along with most of the knights were of the same mind. Then, cocking her head to one side, she realized that the gift was to thick to be a riding crop, so it must be something else, though she couldn't figure out what.

"I thought that you might like this when I saw it in one of the merchant camps that we passed the last time we scouted the south of Gondor,' he said, laying the gift in her small hands.

She shook it, eyeing up her cousin as he smirked. Slowly she untied the string that held the cloth shut and unfolded the cloth and her little mouth was on the floor, along with all four of the men in her immediate family. Sitting in her lap was a small dagger. A small dagger. A dagger. A dagger for a seven year old girl. All four of the Dol Amroth men looked up at Boromir and gave him a questioning look, Imrahil raising an eyebrow as he stared at his nephew. Boromir didn't squirm as much as his brother thought he would, he had known about the gift before hand, and had tried to keep himself from laughing out loud when his brother had shown him the wonderful gift, which would have been an amazing gift for a boy.

The dagger was in question was quite beautiful, small enough to be carried easily, yet large enough to inflict a good amount of damage if used properly. The handle was the most peculiar part of the piece, the grip was of a blue stone almost the color of sapphires. The guard was fashioned to looked like the wings of a bird, with the tail for the pommel. The blade itself was made of the darkest metal that she had seen, yet when it caught the light it gleamed like the brightest of silvers. She rolled it in her hand, looking at either side as she did so. Then she stood, and brandished the weapon like she had seen her brother's do during their training with the other pages, squires, and knights. She crouched low, her center of gravity changing, and grinned evilly at her cousin.

Boromir laughed, and stood up, adjusting her grip on the weapon. "Here,' he said, switching the knife to that the blade ran parallel with her arm, he moved her fingers so that she was mainly gripping the handle between her thumb and pointer finger with her other fingers holding the blade loosely. 'This is the best grip for you to learn for now, I'll show you more later."

She nodded, adjusting her hand so that the blade fit better in her palm. It was a bit heavy, but her cousin assured her that it would take a little practice to get used to the weight. When he had shown her a few moves, and given her a few tips on how to improve her balance and such, she sheathed the blade. He showed her how to tie it to her belt and hide it between her skirts when she went about her day. He also explained that the blade was only to be used in self-defense if she happened to find herself in a bad situation.

"Human life-any life, is valuable, Lotty, and it takes true courage to know not when to take a life, but to spare it." He said, giving her a peck on the cheek.

He turned away, ready to go get dressed and prepared for the day when she caught ahold of his arm. "Why? Why did you give this to me?"

His brow wrinkled. "Because you were the first person that I thought of when I saw it, and, even if you aren't a boy, you still need to know how to protect yourself. Which is what I plan on teaching you how to do so over the few weeks that we're here on leave."

She smiled, and threw her arms around her cousin, hugging his neck tightly as she kissed his cheek.


	4. Chapter 3

Lotty was in heaven. Or the food equivalent of child heaven. She had walked into the private dinning room and gapped at the amount of food that had been laid out for breakfast. There were plates of sausages, bacon, smoked salmon, muffins of every imaginable flavor, pastries with both cream and fruit fillings, potato frittatas, crepes, oranges, mangos, peaches, pineapples, bananas, kiwis, and pomegranates, all of which were expensive and cost a fortune to import from the south. Her mouth watered as she hurried ahead of her brother's picking up her plate and moving down the buffet table picking out all her favorite foods. Sausages, bacon, a few muffins, a raspberry pastry, an orange, a peach, and a kiwi all found their places on her plate as she piled it high. It was only when she had sat down that she realized that her Uncle was seated at the head of the other end of the table.

Pushing her chair back, she looked over to him, and curtsied beautifully, blushing in embarrassment. Her uncles nodded at her, acknowledging that she had greeted him properly, and went back to his own breakfast, ignoring the chatter coming from his sons and nephews as they moved down the buffet table filling up their plates and tossing jokes back and forth. Her father soon seat himself at the other end of the table, her brother's finding their seats soon afterwards, still chatting away with their cousins. Denethor chewed on in silence, his gaze flickering to his young niece every few minutes, watching her eat her food with relish, taking her time to peal the orange, cut the peach, and pick out the delicate, juicy seeds of the pomegranate with her fork. She was a small, petite thing, but quite pleasant to look upon. He nodded to himself, finishing the smoked salmon, and wiped the juices from his chin.

When she was finished with her meal, Lotty looked over to her father, eager to see what was planned for the day. She tried to contain her excitement to the tapping of her slippered feet against the chair-leg, her legs were to short for her to reach the ground just yet, and fidgeted in her chair as she looked out the window at the bright morning sun and the cloudless sky. Her father continued to talk with her cousin, Boromir, about the trade routes that he had secured and those that he hoped to secure by the end of the year. She chewed on her lip as she began to tap out a rhythm on the wooden arm of her chair, her long braid thumping against her back as she began to bounce more.

"Ada!" she waved her hand at him, desperation taking over.

Her father didn't see her, and launched into a heated debate about the wisdom of letting in so many southern people into the port.

"ADA!' she signed again, waving her arm violently.

He paused, and turned to look at her, 'Yes?"

She froze, her pale cheeks turning a rosy red. 'What are we doing today?"

His brow wrinkled as he pretended to think very hard, and he tapped his index finger on his chin. "Well, seeing it is your birthday, I would think that we might do something that you might like,' he turned to her brothers, 'What do you think Lotty would like to do?"

"Sit and read a book in the library,' said Amrothos.

"Go for a walk in the garden, feed the swans in Mum's garden,' Erchrion stated.

"Work on her sampler with Lady Helena."

"Or perhaps have her lessons with Hugo?"

With each statement she grew more frantic, waving her hands and shaking her head vigorously.

"No?' asked her father in mock shock, 'Then whatever do you have in mind?"

Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Bazaar."

His eyebrows rose. "The bazaar?"

She shook her head up and down excitedly.

"Why would you want to go there, wouldn't you rather go to the seamstress' guild?' he asked.

She grimaced and winced at the same time.

"I'll take that as a no,' he chuckled, grinning. 'The Bazaar it is then!"

She jumped up from her chair, twirling around as she punched her fists towards the ceiling in triumph.

Stepping through the many booths of the market places in the lower part of Dol Amroth, Lotty couldn't distinguish where the market ended and the Bazaar started. She was immediately accosted with the scent of strong spices, flowers, and smoke. A haze seemed to hover over the place as she and her brother wove their way through the tents and booths. She was constantly twisting and turning as she took everything in. There were colors that she had never seen before, from the far south upon the sands, vivid pinks, greens, indigo blues, brilliant yellows all draped this way and that. She was in so much awe, turning about this way and that, that she bumped into something, or rather someone.

Whirling around, she blushed furiously, and curtsied on impulse at the man towering above her. Though it was impolite, she couldn't take her eyes off him, she had never seen anyone who looked like him. His beard was the first thing that she noticed; it was long, and bushy, covering most of his face. Now, it wasn't that she hadn't seen any facial hair before, a few of the younger men seemed to think that mustaches were attractive, but she had never seen anyone with a full beard before other than a few of the old healers. His eyes twinkled from behind said beard, and from beneath the colorful turban on his head. He wore bright colorful clothes, and sandals on his feet. He looked down and laughed at her, crouching to her level and looking at her with a large smile.

"You must be the little flower that everyone is talking about today,' he said, smiling.

She nodded, now shy, toeing the ground with one shoe and clasping her hands tightly in front of her. Her gaze flicked up from the ground a few times as he looked at her.

"My name is Navid, little flower,' the man said, bowing low. 'Would you do me the honor of joining me for my morning tea?"

She glanced towards where her brothers were standing with her cousins a few feet away, talking with a merchant from one of the elven settlements far to the north. Turning back to the man, she looked him over. Amrothos bounded over and bowed quickly before Navid.

"Greetings, Navid, it has been awhile since you have set up your tent in our city."

She blinked, when had her brother started acting so mature?

"It has, my young Prince, I have been traveling all over the south these past few seasons, and it saddened me to be away from your fair city here by the sea." replied the southerner.

Navid turned back to her, 'So, my Princess, will you join me for a cup of tea?"

She nodded eagerly and followed after him through the twists and turns of the bazaar, trying to keep up while taking in all the new sights and sounds in the crowded area. The voices of hawkers yelling their wares and merchants bargaining buzzed around her as people from as far north as the Long Lake and as far south as beyond The Dune Sea. Finally, the southerner led them through a booth and into what must have been a place for those who were not used to living in buildings to pitch their tents. Navid pushed aside one of the tent flaps, and they walked inside. The man pulled off his sandals at the entrance, and she saw that Amrothos did the same. Taking their cue, she pulled of her shoes, and looking at her stockinged feet then the plush carpeting of the tent, up at Navid and her brother, she yanked them off in an instant. She had always hated shoes, having spent most of her younger life without them on, pulling them off whenever her nurse had insisted she wear them. Her feet sank down into the carpeting as she followed Navid through the tent into a place where there was a low table and many pillows scattered over the floor.

"Sit! Sit!' motioned their host, beckoning them. 'Nima!"

A woman dressed in just as colorful clothes as their friend appeared in front of them, giving the man an incredulous look. "Yes, baradar?"

"Fetch some tea for our guests, and some sweets!"

"What is the occasion?" she asked, as if the matter was entirely to trying for her.

"Why, it is the Little Flower's birthday!" cried the man.

Her eye brows rose and she turned to the only other female in the room. "How old are you, Little Flower?"

"Seven.' she signed.

The woman's eyebrow rose even higher. Then turning to her brother, she spoke rapidly. " **گل** **کوچک** **بی** **صدا** **است؟** **"**

 **"** **او** **است** **."** He replied.

"I shall bring the tea in a few moments, baradar." The woman said in the common tongue.

"So, little flower, what do you intent to see at the markets today?' asked Navid.

"Everything!" she exclaimed with large movements, her excitement leaking through.

He laughed, leaning back on his pillow, legs crossed. "Then you shall, and Navid will show it to you!"

Her eyes lit up at his promise. "I want to see the birds that I heard, and the monkeys!"

He chuckled, 'And I assume the shops and the sweet treats, too."

She nodded, looking towards the entrance of the tent and the noise that she heard there. She had to stifle a giggle when her two other brothers and her cousins stumbled through the tent, their bare feet sinking deep into the carpet. Her brother's feet were tanned from working on the ships, but Boromir and Faramir's were as white as snow, though they were large.

"Come join us, my friends." He motioned them over to the table and the pillows, rising from his own seat.

Her brothers thanked him and settled into their seats as Nima came back into the tent, a large tray balanced in once hand. Settling it onto the table, she hurried out of the area, bringing back another tray laden with delicacies. Navid pulled her down next to him and began to pour the tea into small crystal cups with gold designs etched into them. He handed each of them a steaming glass. The dishes were past around and her brothers piled many on their plates as each went around. She looked at the many items, glancing up at Nima questionably.

She smiled, 'These,' she picked up a round pastry-looking treat, 'are called Nazook. They are a type of pastry that we enjoy at all times of the day. It has a nut and vanilla filling."

Lotty quirked her eyebrow.

"Vanilla is a type of flavoring that we get from a bean."

Lotty nodded, placing one on her plate before looking over the other items set out.

"This is baghlava, a pastry with nuts and rose hip syrup.' Nima placed one of the treats onto her plate before picking up a small tart and setting it next to the other sweets, 'And this is the best treat here, in my opinion,' she whispered conspiratorially, 'Just don't let Navid hear you say that. It's a saffron tart."

Again, something that Lotty had no idea what it was. She tried the Nazook first, and was surprised by the sweet, flaky pastry, which she had never encountered before in the kitchens of her father's house. After taking one bite of the baghlava, her face twisted into a wry grimace as she chewed the many thin layers of pastry, the flavor quite revolting to her palate. Nima smiled behind her cup as the little girl tried to swallow the morsel, doing her best to keep her small face from betraying her disgust. Gulping down the last bite, she took a nibble off of the saffron tart, her eyes growing large as she took a bigger nibble. Soon the whole tart was plopped into her mouth. It was amazing, like an explosion of flavors in her mouth. She closed her eyes, savoring the last few crumbs before they were swallowed.

Turning to Nima, she began to sign rapidly. "Those are amazing. What do you use to make them? Will you teach me? What was the spice you used?"

Nima laughed, the first that she had heard since they had been welcomed into Navid's tent. "Slow down child, I know some signs, but you are going to fast."

Lotty smiled, "Can you teach me how to make these tarts?"

"Perhaps you can come visit us after your birthday,' Nima said, putting another one of the tarts on her plate.

When she had finished more than enough tarts to feet a small army, Navid plucked her from her pillow and led her out of the tent, slipping his sandals on quickly . She followed after him, skipping and twirling as they once again entered the land of bright colors and strong scents. The southerner led her through the throngs of people. They passed each shop, stopping for a minutes to look at the wares that were available. There were numerous booths filled with spices, carved tableware, ornate stools, pots, pitchers, jewelry, foods she had never laid eyes upon, birds that looked like they belonged in a fairytale, monkeys that screamed or howled like wolves, carpets of rich fibers, baskets woven from dyed reeds, food from the far north and south, musical instruments, flowers, dolls, and books from all over middle earth.

Pulling on Navid's sleeve, she stepped into a booth containing many carved things made of wood or stone. Sitting in the back of the book was an old man, a pile of wood shavings gathering at his feet as he moved his knife over the wooden piece that he worked over. She looked over his wares, her fingers trailing along the long line of pendants down to the hobby horses and onto the bowls and spoons and other pieces. Her hand stopped over a peculiar piece; it was a toy horse, but with a removable doll. The horse looked quite like a miniature of the real ones that her father kept in the stables, and the person, who looked like a rohirrim warrior maiden, was almost life-like. She didn't dare touch it, for fear of knocking over the other things set up on display. She looked it over, admiring how the woman's face seemed to have a gentle, yet determined expression permanently fixed upon her features and how she fit onto the horse by a cut-out. Moving away from the piece with a sigh, she looked over the pendants, finding them all to be something that were similar to the charms that her maids wore. Navid stood at the back of the store speaking in hushed tones with the carver as she came to stand in front of the toy again, looking at it longingly. Her tow small hands rested upon the table on which it sat, close enough to touch it, but far enough away to not knock it over.

Finally, she turned from the carving and slipped out of the booth to look at the next stall. This one was filled with all the manner of small weapons. None were as beautiful as the one that her cousin had given her, with it's blue handle and swan wings at the hilt. There were small eating daggers with deep engravings of vines and fruit, whittling knives, throwing knives, long dirks, and even a few short swords. Some of the blades were made of metal, others were made of different stones, one even looked like it was made of ice, but she learned that it was made of a stone called quartz. She was a little shocked when she found out that some of the blades were made of bone, and quickly moved onto the next stall, which was a sweet-booth.

There were numerous different sweets to be had, all in different shapes and sizes, with different flavors. Some were like little strawberries, others like pears, and even a few were shaped like animals. She looked over the sweets longingly, finding small dog that she liked. Out of no where the sweet was lifted off the plate and placed in her hands, and a few coins were deposited in the palm of the sweet-maker. She looked up at her cousin, smiling widely as she bit off the tail of the dog before offering him a piece. Boromir laughed, but refused to take a piece of the sweet, telling her it was hers alone.

They trailed their way through the bazaar, stopping here and there before they decided to join Navid for lunch. The meal was again something that she had never tasted before, and she found that it was quite tasty. There was a soup made with fried onions, something that Nima called a 'noodle', beans, topped with something called kashk. Adas Polo followed the soup, a mixture of rice, lentils and dried grapes. This was followed by another stew made with beef; the meal was completed with a rice pudding that Lotty also begged Nima to teach her how to make, and Bamieh.

Mid-way through the meal they were interrupted by a giant of a man, taller than her father, who had skin as dark as the night sky. He came into the tent as silent as a mouse, looked at the visitors, and turned to leave.

"Nishanti, where do you think you are going?" Navid asked in an annoyed voice as the man took a step towards the tent exit.

"You have guests, cousin." came the clipped reply.

"So? You are family. Join us." Navid ordered.

The giant of a man turned back to the low table, walking silently over to sit between Amrothos and Faramir. He towered over the little girl, his bald head shining in the light from the lamps and the sunlight coming in through the openings in the tent. He partook of the meal in silence, speaking in one word answers when asked questions. Slowly the conversation turned away from the man as he ate, and it was almost like he wasn't even there. Lotty watched him curiously, her eyes following his hands as he ate the rice, which was sticky enough to pick up and eat with your fingers, and finished off the last of the pudding when Nima had it brought out by a serving girl. The man was so intent on ignoring everyone around him that when the little girl crawled into his lap and sat there looking up at him with her big curious blue eyes that he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"What do you do?" she asked.

...

"What type of work do you do?"

He blinked, 'I work as a guard to the caravan when we travel."

"Is it really dangerous?"

"It depends on the time of year and what the scouts bring in."

"Where do you live?"

"No where really, but I can be found in Umbar for the most part."

She frowned. "You don't have a home?"

"No."

"What about your parents?"

"They live in Umbar also."

"They you live with them, wouldn't they be your home?"

"Home is wherever the wind blows me,' he said.

"That's not a...

Navid and the others had moved away from the table to let the serving girls clean up, and had continued to talk when Erchirion nudged his brother.

"What, Chiri?" Elphir muttered, all eyes turning to the boy.

"Look."

The group turned, and their jaws went slack, Navid's most especially. There, sitting in the lap of his cousin was the Little Flower. She was gabbing away with the great brute, her fingers flying as they talked back and forth. The giant of a man had a smile on his face, his white teeth gleaming, and he even let out a chuckle or two. Nima came through one of the tent flaps, carrying another tray of tea when she stopped short, blinked, looked again, rubbed her eyes, then looked again.

"I'm seeing things, right?"

"No, you're not. This is really happening." Navid whispered.

"What's going on? Why is this so strange?' Amrothos asked.

Navid glanced at the prince, then back to his cousin. "Nishanti does not do children, not since his young wife and their two children were brutally murdered many years ago. Since that day he has avoided them at all costs, driven by his guilt and grief, he took up guiding and protecting the merchants that wished to make long journeys over the Dune Sea or up this way to Dol Amroth. He's always been quiet, distant."

"I think he's found his voice,' muttered Nima, rolling her eyes as she shoo'd the serving girls out of the room.

The group watched the gigantic man chatter and laugh away with the little girl for a few more minutes before turning back to their own conversation, or what they remembered of it. When their meal had settled in their stomach, they set out again to look at the stalls in the bazaar, Nishanti letting Lotty lead him from stall to stall in her childish awe; he grew more and more fond of her by the minute. Slowly the afternoon drifted along and the sun began to sink low in the sky. It was Elphir who was the first to notice the change in light, looking up into the sky. Eyes growing large, he turned to look for his sister among the many vendors. Finding her looking over some uniquely shaped baskets that had patterns woven into them, he tapped her shoulder.

"Lotty, it's nearly time to return, most of the guests will be getting ready to go to your dinner." he said, running his hand over her hair.

She frowned, looking up at Nishant sadly. "I have to go."

He nodded, just as sad, 'You're people await you, Little Princess."

"Will you be here when I come to visit Navid again?' she asked.

"Nay, little one, I will probably be hired to watch over another caravan heading south."

She frowned again.

"It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Nishanti, and I hope that we will see more of you in the future,' Elphir said, clasping the mans hand in a firm handshake before turning to Lotty, 'Come, we must hurry."

He took her hand and led her away while she waved. They were a almost to the point where the dark southerner had begun to be lost in the colors of the market when Lotty tore away from her brother, running through the stalls, her bare feet, which no one had noticed up until that point, pounding against the ground as she raced towards the tall man as he turned away. Reaching him, she flung her arms about his large waist, hugging him tightly.

"May we meet again under the canopy of tents, Nishanti,' she said, then giving him one last squeeze, she hurried back through the gathering crowd to her brothers who stood waiting for her.

"Stand still Your Highness while I finish your hair,' Anita reprimanded as she redid the last few twists of the braid she had nearly finished before her charge had twitched in her chair.

Lotty wanted to groan as she sat still. When she had come back to the palace with her shoes and stockings in hand Nora had almost had a heart attack. She had gone on over and over again about how ladies did not take off their shoes when they were out and how unsanitary it was. They'd bathed her, scrubbing her from head to toe vigorously before dressing her in the new dress that the seamstress had finished only yesterday. She had sat through them brushing and fussing with her hair for what felt like hours on end before they had finally settled on the right one. She longed to be free of the confinements of her room.

"There we are, perfect!' exclaimed Anita, weaving in a few spring flowers between the braids. 'Prettier than a picture, my momma would say."

"Thank you!' Lotty said, jumping down from the stool and hurrying out the door and down the hall to the windowseat that looked over the courtyard. There were many carriages and horses crowding the yard along with the bustle of the guests who had been staying within the guest quarters of the castle itself. It looked like her father had invited the whole of Gondor's nobility with all the people rushing around. She leaned an elbow on the windowsill, resting her chin on her hand as she watched the action down in the yard. She noticed many young girls her age, two inpreticular who she might call close friends, Aislinn and Dania, exited the carriage with their families. Aislinn had two older brother's and a younger sister who followed after their father and mother like little ducklings, their light chestnut hair standing out against the many dark browns and blacks of their companions. Dania had an older brother and two younger sisters, but they all looked so unlike each other it was hard to tell if they were all related. Her mother was taller than most women, and cut an imposing figure next to her rather short father. Lotty's gaze traveled over the other guests, many of them being old acquaintances of the family, but there were quite a few families that exited their carriages who she did not know.

"You look so much like your mother,' came the soft voice of her father.

Turning, she looked up at him, hand coming to rest upon the windowsill.

"She had dark hair like you,' he said, drawing her into his lap.

"What was she like?"

"Kind, gentle, stubborn as a donkey at times with a tongue to match,' he chuckled softly. 'She was perfect."

Lotty smiled, though it faltered a little, 'Did-did she love me?"

He seemed shocked at that. "She loved you very much, you were her little miracle. Her greatest gift."

"But it was my fault, my fault for killing her."

"No, Lothiriel! No! It was not your fault,' he stated, tilting her trembling chin up, 'We were told that it would be nigh impossible for her to have another child, and if she did that there were risks. We were not totally unprepared for what might happen."

"But she's still gone."

"Yes, but not because of anything that you did, little lily,' he said, kissing her nose. 'Now come, our guests await!"

Lotty stood at her father's side as they greeted the guests as they came in, the lords and ladies bowing before them in respect. Her brother's were farther down the receiving line, greeting each person cordially as they could. Amrothos looked like he was being choked in his formal attire, pulling at the stiff collar of his shirt ever now and then when no one was looking. Elphir was having a time of it with the young ladies. Each one that would come up and greet him would be overly courteous before fluttering their eyelashes at him and saying something they deemed witty. They all seemed to flock to the young man, barely out of childhood, flirting outright with him in attempts to catch his attention. Erchirion stood on the sidelines laughing behind his hand at the group of ladies that his brother had garnered, making funny jokes about each one out of the side of his mouth to Amrothos who struggled to not laugh loudly in the large group of people and thus draw the attention to him.

Even farther down the line were her cousin's, both of which were also swamped by ladies who seemed to latch onto the like leeches. Both of her cousins squirmed under the attention, so used to being out in the wilderness or on patrol alone with other men that they found it difficult to keep up with the women. Their father was already seated within the hall, a plate of freshly cut fruit sitting before him as he watched the lords and ladies trickle into the large banquet room. When the last guest had been welcomed, they were all seated and the meal began.

The tables were set up in a great 'U' shape, with a few in-between to add extra seating. Her uncle sat at the head of the table, at the place of honor. After him was her Grandfather on his right, then her father on his left. Her brother's and cousin's were mixed in among the higher nobility, mostly seated between ladies. Lotty found herself seated between Faramir and her friend Dania. On Faramir's right side was a lady from the northern part of Gondor, Lady Niriel, who was somehow related to the keeper of the Keys in Minas Tirith. The woman did not know when to shut up. She continued to jabber on and on about this new dress or that or the new engagements that had popped up that spring and those who were thought to be courting. Seeing that her cousin was about to be bored to death, she started signing at him, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"She's quite chatty, isn't she." she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

Faramir tried to keep from smiling as he replied likewise. 'Yes, and quite annoying. Do the women of the court talk of anything other than the newest style of dress or who, is to be married next? I grow weary of her constant yammering."

"Do you think she might shut up if I started talking to her?" she asked.

He paused, taking a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. "It just might."

He turned to the Lady, "My cousin is curious, Lady Niriel, would you mind if she asks you a few questions about your lands?"

The lady smiled, though it was tight, 'Of course."

"Do you constantly chatter among your people?' asked Lotty, her signs fast. Faramir tried not to snicker.

The woman stared at the girl, blinked, and opened her mouth, then closed it. "Could you repeat that, Princess?"

"Are you quite sure that that was the right color to choose for your complexion?" Lotty asked, a glint in her eye. Faramir had to cover his laugh with a cough as his eyes began to water.

"I'm sorry dear, I don't know what you're saying, perhaps another time?' the lady said, lips thin.

Lotty's smile grew as the woman turned to her other dinner partner, a Lord of high standing, chattering away.

"That wasn't very nice, Lotty,' he told her, sipping from his wine glass.

She shrugged, 'She is very chatty, and her dress is atrocious. She should never wear pale or pasty colors like lavender, it washes her out."

Faramir laughed outright then, ignoring the look his father was sending him across the tables. "Lotty, you are a force to be reckoned with, remind me to warn your future spouse about your mischievousness."

She rolled her eyes, 'Boys hold no interest for me, Faramir, they all smell like pigs most of the time."

"But they are far less annoying and prissy than the girls your age,' he shot back at her.

"I hate you."


	5. Chapter 4

Lotty clapped as the minstrel finished his tune, bowing before the great hall of people. From the sidelines a young boy, one who looked no older than her brother Amrothos, stepped forward. He bowed low before them, his long, shaggy head of hair flopping this way and that. She realized that the boy was one of those that lived in the lower town, whom she had seen a few times when she went out with her father. He had always followed the minstrels around, and had even learned how to play the lute and harp, but was rather quiet.

"Dear Lady's and Lords, I have dedicated this ballad, my very first, to Princess Lothiriel, our White Flower.' he bowed again, and strumming his lute, began to play.

"Lack-a-wit

Numskull

Mooncalf

Fool.

That's what they call me.

That's what they yell in the town

when I walk through.

I don't say back.

I'm waiting

till I get big

and can hit hard.

My sister, Meg, says, "Don't listen to them.

You're no fool-

can't you milk the cows

and gather the eggs?"

And I can.

I can milk as well as anyone.

I can always find the eggs-

more'n Meg.

I watch the hens-

I see where they go.

Father used to say

I was good for nothing else,

but father died,

and we don't miss him.

Now it's just Meggy

and me, and Mother

and the beasts,

which is good.

Heavan must be like this:

Varda and Her husband,

and the dumb beasts,

and the other gods and goddesses fluttering 'round like birds.

Nobody ale-drunk,

nobody yelling,

or hitting,

or jeering "Lack-a-wit."

Just friends.

I have a friend

Meggy doesn't know. She hates him.

Otho, the miller's son.

She says he's a thief,

but I never saw him steal.

They hate him, too,

the other boys do. When they see him

they whisper

and snicker

and throw rocks.

One day last winter

I was hunting the eggs.

He was under the hedge,

crouched down, crying.

His nose was all bloody,

his eye turned black.

He turned his back

so I wouldn't see,

but his shoulders were shaking so hard.

I knew what to do,

because of Father.

There was still ice under the trees.

I clawed up a handful,

and laid it against his face gently,

and I said what Meg always says:

"It'll get better,

it'll get better,

it'll get better."

He made a noise

like a bull being slaughtered

and I cried, too.

I told him he could have my eggs,

all three.

He didn't answer,

just kept making that noise,

his mouth open so he could breathe,

his face all blood and tears and snot.

I stayed by his side till he stopped.

After that day,

he's been my friend,

He doesn't speak,

He doesn't smile,

but he hasn't forgotten,

and never joins in

When the other boys shout:

Lack-a-wit

Numskull

Mooncalf

Fool."

After the boys song the minstrels were taken away and given a grand dinner in the kitchens. Lotty disappeared from the hall for a short amount of time, slipping into the kitchens, she seated herself next to the boy, Haidian. The boy gave a small start, but relaxed when she smiled up at him. Using one of the maids as a translator, she thanked the boy and the other minstrels for playing for her birthday and asked if they would be staying in the city for long. The head minstrel nodded, saying that they planned on staying for another few days before heading out to the other castle and keeps belonging to the Lord's and Lady's in the hall to earn a few more coppers. She spent a few more minutes chatting away with them and listening to the tales they had to tell about their travels.

After biding them a farewell, she returned to the hall moving to a chair before the fire, her family behind her. Slowly each family that had been invited to her birthday feast brought a gift forward. There were numerous books of different genre's, one of the families gave her a hawking glove and a hawk, which would be added to her father's birds in the Mews. A set of silver combs was given to her by one of her father's old friends, there were many other gifts, small toys, a group of handkerchiefs from Aislinn, a quilt from Nora. Helena gave her a new set of boots that had swans etched into the leather, which were quite beautiful. Dania was the last person to bring her a gift. The girl walked up the steps to her seat, and curtsied, and handed her a doll.

Lotty gasped, her hands going over the dolls face. It was the doll that she had always coveted when she had played with her two friends when they got together. She had begged her father for one just like it, with it's painted face and real hair, but he had said that she already had a doll and didn't need anymore. She had been rather jealous of her friends because they had many such dolls, with numerous gowns and outfits to dress them up in.

Dania and Aislinn were her closest friends since she was a small girl. When she had first went to the court in Minas Tirith for the season with her brothers many of the other women and their children had dragged their darlings away from her because of her muteness. They thought that it must have been contagious or something, and had forbidden any of their little girls to play with her, even if she was a princess. It had been then that Aislinn and Dania had been ushered over by their mothers and encouraged to play with her. She had never known why, always assuming that it was because they had known her mother and felt bad for her, but had given it no more thought.

"Here, Lotty, I thought you might like this.' Dania said smiling in a sickly sweet way, 'I remember how much you liked playing with her when we were little. I'm unfortunately to old to play with dolls anymore."

"They're for babies,' muttered Aislinn, who stood next to her.

Lotty smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes as she looked at the two girls. They were both older than her by a year or two, but she didn't understand how they could be to old for dolls already. Helena still played dolls with her, even if she was an adult, and the other girls in Dol Amroth played with dolls in the streets and they were far older than she was. She enjoyed playing with her dolls, having picnics and parties, taking them for walks in the garden or bringing one of the simpler ones down to play with the other girls in the lower city.

"Thank you,' she said, and the two girls smiled, bobbed a curtsy, and hurried off, joining the gaggle of girls that gathered around another one of the fire places in the hall.

Standing from his seat at the head table, her uncle cleared his throat, walking towards her. "I do have a gift for you, little jewel,' he stated loudly, calling her by that dreadful nickname he had given to her when she was a toddler after seeing her for the first time. He had thought she looked like his wife, but once she had grown decided that she did indeed look like her own mother. 'But it is unfortunately too big to fit into a box." He chuckled, and there was a strange, conniving glint in his eyes.

He whipped a large piece of parchment from his robes and handed it to her, 'My gift is Halifir Keep along the White Mountains in the north, along with all it's lands and inhabitants."

There was a hushed gasp that went through the hall. The Keep of Haifir was one of the most beautiful country manors of Gondor, and had been apart of the Stewards House for longer than any of them could remember. Set at the foot of the mountain Halifirien and surrounded by a small forest on one side and flat green farmlands in a rich valley, it was quite beautiful. Many artists had gone there to paint the scenery and spent time in the large gardens and hunting in the extensive forests. It was also the closest Manor to the border of Rohan, and on the Great West Road, a place of traffic for many merchants. It was a great keep.

Lotty smiled, though with a small amount of confusion. She didn't understand why her uncle would give her this large piece of land, she was only a girl, and a young one at that. It would have made sense if she were a boy, having land to their name. It would help when it came to war, and marriage eventually. She already had a dowry, and land along the sea to the north that had been her mother's which was pasted down to her. She thanked her uncle, and smiled weakly. Her uncle drew her into his arms, and she hugged him, hoping that he wouldn't hug her to tightly or shove her face deep into his smelly robes. Her uncle was a man, and men smelled and sweated. He would always cover up the stench with heavy perfumes which made her gag.

"You will have to visit your new lands soon,' he uncle murmured, 'And come see me in Minas Tirith."

She nodded, knowing that there was no way to get out of going to the White City when it was her Uncle who requested it.

When she had returned to her seat, she looked up at her father. He smiled down at her as her brother's brought forth their gifts. Elphir handed her a wooden box, which she gently opened gasping at what lay on the cloth inside. It was a bridle, one of a dark leather with blue accents. Along with it were two pairs of reigns one in black leather and the other in the blue. Sitting on the edge of her seat, she eagerly waited for Erchirion two bring his gift. Walking up the stairs, he settled a small saddle at her feet. It was the same dark leather with blue accents, the stirrups adjustable so the saddle would grow with her. She tried to contain her excitement as she watched Amrothos walk up to her, laying three different leads, each of a different colors. She looked up at her father eagerly, her smile so large that she was sure that it might stretch off her face.

"When the party is over, there is someone waiting to meet you in the stables,' her father said, mussing her bangs. She swatted at him, smiling as she wiggled in her chair.

There were a few more songs played, more food was served, then the sweets were brought out. Pastries, pies, cakes, fried doughnuts, fruits cut into the shapes of animals, and to top it all off a swan made of marzipan. Everyone marveled at the creation, how large it was, how much detail had gone into each one of the feathers. Lotty had snuck into the kitchen when the cook had been putting the swan together, and had seen just how many pieces were pilled up waiting to be placed on the swan to bring it to life. The bird had been painted with berry juices to give it color, and had turned out quite impressive. When everyone had sampled one dessert or another, talking and playing all the while, her father stood up at the head of the table, tapping his knife against his cup. The hall fell silent and all turned their attentions to the Prince.

"I would like to thank you all for joining us here today as we celebrated Princess Lothiriel's seventh birthday,' he said, nodding to the other lords and ladies. 'I would also like to-

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The hall grew deathly quiet as their eyes turned towards the large door that stood at one end of the hall. Children drew near their parents, hiding behind their mother's skirts. Men's hands went to the hilts of their swords, their shoulders tense as they held their breath. The women all inhaled sharply, placing protective hands around their children's shoulders as they stepped behind their husbands and elder brothers. Lotty drew close to her cousins, who stood nearest her, gripping a hand from each one as she peered through the space between their arms to the door. She didn't dare breath as the doors were suddenly thrown open, but her cousin's moved in front of her and she could no longer see. She tried to look through the space between their arms, but they shifted as whomever it was walked through the crowds of guests up to the dais. There were horrified gasps and soft shrieks from the women as they shuffled away from the intruder, but the children leaned forward with interest, never having seen someone so strange before. The men eyed the man suspiciously, looking him up and down and wrinkling their eyebrow at his strange garb.

"Who enters my House?' came her father's deep voice. She could hear the tension in it, could feel it growing in the room.

"I am Nisanti, son of Nisan, son of Ni, and I come to offer my services to one, Lothiriel of Dol Amroth."

Lotty pushed at her cousin's arms, peeking through their protective barrier to the place where her friend stood in the center of the hall. There, standing tall among all of her fair-skinned neighbors and friends was Nisanti, dark as night. His broad shoulders stood out against those of her kinsmen who were more slender in build, like the elves. His long, thick, bushy beard flowed out over his bare chest which only had a sash covering it. His baggy pants billowed out over his legs, kept there by a wide belt. His bald head shone in the light of the hundreds of candles handing in the chandeliers. He looked quite deadly.

"And what service is it that you offer?' her Uncle asked from the shadows of his lofty chair.

"That of protection. I am a trained bodyguard,' replied Nasanti without blinking.

"What would a Princess, and one so closely watched and guarded, need with a body guard?' asked Boromir.

Amrothos burst out laughing, but covered it up with a cough as he turned to look at his sister, merriment running rampant though his eyes as they sparkled with mischief. Lotty smirked at her brother behind her cousins backs, the twinkle in her eye rivaling his own. Her two other brothers looked up at their father, eyebrows raised as they nodded subtly in the man's direction. She knew that they were thinking of all the times that she had escaped her guards, nurse, and teacher, and if someone, who had been trained to be a bodyguard, would be able to keep up with her, then it was a good choice. Her father looked over the man, who was only a little taller than him, just over six feet. Nasanti stood tall, shoulders back, as her father looked him up and down, examining him like a lion stalking his prey.

"I accept your offer of service to protect and watch over my daughter,' Imrahil stated, nodding his head at the man.

Nasanti bowed, "Then, as a show of my faithfulness and fondness for your daughter, I present this gift."

He pulled a figurine out from the folds of his clothes, and Lotty gasped. It was the horse and rider that she had looked at while in the bazaar earlier that day. She laughed, slipping through her cousins arms and bounding down the stairs to throw herself into the mans arms. Withdrawing, she began to sign at him rapidly, thanking him and peppering him with questions. He smiled, white teeth flashing against his dark skin, and let her pull him away to sit at the table while she filled his plate with food from the platters on the table. The guests, who were quite shocked, hurried out of the room at a rapid pace, glancing back with a little fear at the tall, dark warrior seated next to their little princess.

Though Lotty was overjoyed to have her friend with her constantly, she soon found out that it was not as it was all cracked up to be. It was much more difficult, nigh impossible, to escape from her guardians to go romp with the other children in the lower town or go find her brothers. Nasanti was a constant companion, watching over her every minute of the day. From the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment her head hit the pillow at night he was with her. The only plus side was that when she did want to go play with the other children, she was allowed more often because he would be watching her from a distance. The towns children had become quite friendly with her over that summer, and with her bodyguard, roping him into some of the games that they played together. He became their monster when they were fighting the bad guys, their horse when they were rescuing the maiden in distress, and their wizard when they were going on a quest. When he was not being used as playmate he would be telling the children tales of the south, of the kings and the merchants and the adventures that happened there. The boys soon changed their stories to include adventures through the deserts, riding on camels, attacking bandits or sailing on the high seas with the Pirates that lived around Umbar.

As the year slid by, Nasanti became one of her closest friends, one of her best confidants. He could sign more fluidly than any of her brothers, though they understood her, and was always there with an open ear if she had questions or wanted to hear another story. He found much joy in watching over her, treating her as his charge, but also as the daughter that he never had. He slowly taught her the words of the language spoken by his people, and the letters with which they wrote with, her knowledge growing larger by the day. He even taught her a few of the signs that he used in his people, telling her that there were different languages, but there was a universal sign-language that all the tribes used. She was immensely interested in his people, and asked him a million questions.

When she was not pestering her new bodyguard with questions she was out riding her new pony, Oriol, up and down the pastures. The pony was one of the most magnificent creatures that she had ever seen, having a grey and white speckled coat and a white mane. Oriol was a gentle and patient teacher as he trotted and walked and cantered the length of the pastures till Lotty's heart was content. They grew very close as Lotty learned not only how to ride properly by one of the many horsemen among her father's knights, but during the time that she learned how to groom and care for her dear friend. Every morning she would wake up early, dress in a simple gown and head down to the stables to feed and water her steed, brushing him down before saddling him up and taking him for a light walk through the gravel courtyard before heading down to the pasture to her lessons with Master Roland. Roland was one of the eldest riders still within her fathers service, nearing sixty years of age, but still spry as any young boy because he was so active. He had taught every young person of noble birth within a hundred or so mile radius how to ride for as long as they could all remember. He had taught her brothers how to ride when they were a little older than she, but had annoyed her father into letting her ride sooner, saying that it would take her longer to master the blasted side-saddle that so many of the women found so attractive. He thought it was all ridiculous, the woman's balance being off and the difficulty in guiding the horse properly; and so her father had relented and allowed her to start sooner, thus the gift of her pony.

"Relax, child! Relax, that's the key! Soften your thigh, your ankle, and your knee,' Roland shouted at her as she rode around the small corral. 'That's it! Now sit up a little straighter, good, good."

She bit her lip as her body ached from sitting up so straight, muscles cramping as she followed Roland's instructions. He was a stickler for perfection, and when it came to the Princess, even more so. He had started her out on a saddle, not the one that her brothers had given her, but a more worn and softened one. When she had learned how to sit properly and felt comfortable, it took it away and taught her how to ride bareback, which she was immensely afraid of. How was she supposed to hang on when there weren't any stirrups or reigns?

"Hold on with your knees, child!' Roland had huffed in annoyance when she had asked. 'That's the secret to good riding. Grip Oriol's body between your knees as hard as you like; sit straight up like I taught you when you were riding in the saddle-there you go!- keep your elbows in. Good, good."

She had been more than sore when she had woken up the next day. Ever muscle had ached, and any movement sent shooting pains through her young body. She had fallen off more times than she could count, and gained many bruises for the effort. Her legs ached terribly as she brushed her pony the next day before she was to join Roland for another lesson in the corral. But as the days her muscles grew hardened as she spent more and more time riding and she fell less often. By the end of her many lessons Roland was pleased, saying that she had the carriage of a Queen whether she was riding astride, which she preferred about the abomination that was the sidesaddle, bareback and sidesaddle. He would come and watch her when she rode around, shooting out suggestions and places for her to improve. He was secretly pleased with how quickly she had caught on to his lessons, and vowed that once she grew enough and got a horse of her own that he would teach her how to jump.

Bouncing along down the hallway, Lotty pushed open her father's study door. She stumbled to a stop when she came upon her father mumbling over a letter, Nasanti walking up behind her and standing just outside the door. Her father continued to pace the length of his study muttering and grumbling to himself, the piece of parchment in his hand and a frown upon his face.

"Summoned...travel...visit...marriage...birthday...' he turned around, eyes lifting from the page and feet slowing to a stop when he saw her standing before him. 'Lotty. How was your walk today?"

She cocked her head, eyeing the letter, but decided against asking about it, 'It was good, Nasanti took me down to visit the Bazaar and Navid. He had more stories from his homeland to tell as we walked through the market, it was quite fun."

He smiled, albet a little sadly, 'I hope you enjoyed it, seeing as you will not be able to do it for much longer."

"Why?"

"You're uncle requests our presence at court in Minas Tirith."

She could have sensed the 'and' coming for miles.

"And he says that he's noticed that you haven't visited your new lands in Halifirien."

She shrugged, 'Why would I want to see it, I like living here, by the sea."

Her father sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "It would not be wise to disregard a request of your uncle's."

A frown appeared on her face, 'He's just the steward, not even a prince, he can't order us around, right?"

"Unfortunately he can,' her father stated, _he's been growing in power,_ he thought to himself, 'getting closer to be a king every year."

He muttered the last part, but she caught it with her little ears.

"Why is it so important that we attend court?"

"He wants to celebrate your birthday there, introduce you to those in the court of Minas Tirith. He wants you to make more friends and thought this might be a good way to do that."

"I already have friends, I have Aislinn, Dania, Michal, Shaun, Haidan, Rorali, Duncan, and-and-

"I know, but he wants you to make friends your age among the nobility,' Imrahil groaned inwardly.

"You said that it doesn't matter who people are or where they come from, you can be friends. Why do I have to have more friends among the nobility? The girls don't like me and the boys think I'm strange."

"They just need to see more of who you are, they only get a few minutes here and there when they come to feast,' he reasoned.

"Even so, they ignore me,' she grumbled. 'They don't like me."

"We'll be leaving within the week, I've already let Nora know and she's gathering your things."He stated.

She grimaced, ready to let her hands fly.

"Don't argue with me, Lothiriel."

"Must I really come with you? The mussels harvest is almost about to begin and I promised Mishal that I would help." she begged.

Her father looked sadly down at her. She had grown so much over the past year and a half, no longer quite the wild child, though she still had her moments, but learning to control herself with the decorum of a lady. The tantrums were almost nonexistent, she didn't disappear as much as she used to, asking permission more often when she wanted to go do something. As she had learned to read and write she had grown more and more hungry for knowledge, and had progressed much faster than any of his sons. He had laughed when her tutor had told him that she had started to read the books in the library, starting from one end and working to the other. When she wasn't out riding her pony she was playing with the children of the lower city, running through the markets and playing games, when she wasn't doing that she was holed up in the library, stacks of books littered all around her as she plowed through volume after volume.

While she had matured and turned into something of a little lady, she had grown in height. Reaching her father's chest, it looked like she would be on the taller end of the spectrum compared to the other women, who were all less than five-foot-five. He wouldn't doubt it if she surpassed that, landing somewhere around five-six. Her hair had grown very long, and the waves and curls which had been quite unruly before had calmed do to Nora's constant attention and search for something to tame her lady's hair. It had been Nasanti who had suggested using certain oils and herbs from his homeland, his people having very curly hair that was more often than not tied in knots. It had been a slow change, but once Nora had used it a few times she was amazed at how much easier it was to brush through her charges hair, though if Lotty wasn't so rough when she was playing might have helped the situation more.

His nephews had come to visit more often, sneaking their groups of rangers and soldiers down close to the border of Dol Amroth in excuse to see their cousins. Faramir and Lotty spent much of their time in the library, which he wasn't surprised about at all, his youngest nephew was more of a poet and a scribe than a warrior. Boromir would take his youngest cousin on long rides up and down the beaches or out into the woods that grew a little way away from the city, showing her how to find her way with Amrothos tagging along behind. He had been quite surprised at how much Boromir visited, coming to see him every few months and staying for a few weeks at a time with his men. He would disappear at the oddest of times, and no one would be able to find him. Imrahil had his suspicions, but didn't dare voice them for fear that someone would bring the news to his brother-in-law, who would undoubtably be angered.

Lotty looked up at her father, begging him to understand, to see how much she didn't want to go. All the other children her age avoided her, crossing to the other side of the room when she entered or tried to join one of their groups to play when her father had outings and the like. She was always the last one to be chosen for the games they played, and when they did choose her she was always the first one to be taken out. Even when Aislinn and Dania were there they didn't really want to spend time with her. Aislinn had turned twelve this year and Dania eleven, both were slowly becoming obsessed with boys and dresses, talking about what they were learning from their mothers about how to run the castle or keep. Lotty was on the cusp of turning ten, and had only started to learn little things about running the household, like what days they did laundry on or cleaned the empty guest bedrooms. She had tried to share the knowledge that she had learned, but the girls dismissed her. She had tried everything, dressing in her best dresses, putting her dolls away in her wardrobe when they came over to play so that they wouldn't see them, trying to stay clean when she could, but nothing worked.

 _Please don't make me come,_ she pleaded in her mind.

"Yes. Yes, you must come."


End file.
